Spoils of a War
by Hannani
Summary: Galina had always known that her father was an incredible wandmaker. But never had she once guessed that he was in possession of the Elder Wand. The possession of this wand was the cause of the loss of her loved ones and the reason why she was on the run. She couldn't wait to drop off Grindelwald's radar, no matter the cost.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **All of the Potterverse belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing.

**Summary:** Galina had always known that her father was an incredible wandmaker. But never had she once guessed that he was in possession of the Elder Wand. The possession of this wand was the cause of the loss of her loved ones and the reason why she was on the run. She couldn't wait to drop off Grindelwald's radar, no matter the cost.

**Warning:** (Graphic) description of torture, rape, death and killing. Warnings might change, as this is a WIP – I **won't **put up warnings at the beginning of chapters.

**A/N:** This little plunny came to me and it was so persistent that I instantly started writing (though I have so many other WIP that I wanted to finish so I could let you guys in on them). I hope you have as much fun reading, as I have writing it!

It was quite difficult to research the time-line, so I hope it's not too much off! I altered situations and places according to my story, so this won't be historically accurate. I tried my best, but sometimes I just ignores or changed things, so it would suit my storyline. I hope you guys can understand that 😊

Chapters lengths will vary, as I have honestly no idea when and how to split them.

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One – The Beginning of the End

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Sitting on my bed, I simply stared at the pages of the book rather than reading it. Though the topic of the old tome was more than intriguing, '_Curse-breaking throughout the centuries_' couldn't keep my mind from wandering back to the training fight I had with my father yesterday.

Ever since the death of my mother was my father almost paranoid in his effort to not only educate me but also to make sure that I could look after myself. Additional to my schooling at Durmstrang came numerous tutors. While other girls from pureblood families learned to dance, I was taught the art of duelling. While others were tutored in etiquette, I was trained in curse-breaking. Which of course didn't mean that I didn't have to know how to dance or behave in high-born company.

"_A well-rounded lady knows how to hold herself – in any situation she may find herself in_", my mother used to say, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

My father only reinforced his efforts to follow that mantra, after the fatal accident that ripped my mother from my life when I was still a small child. The lessons in duelling doubled and my wandlore sessions were thankfully cancelled. Though I had an extensive theoretical knowledge of that topic, I seemed to lack in the practical field. Naturally my father was a bit disappointed about that, but he made sure that I knew that he was proud of me nonetheless. At least, in his stern and gruff way.

While my father was a strict man, I also knew that he loved me more than anything else. Which made it so confusing that he was angry with me right now. Yesterday, we were in our backyard, training new disarming spells, when he suggested a mock fight to end the training session. Without any hesitation I agreed. My father was not only a master in wandlore, but also a genius at duelling. I never had to hold back, I could throw whatever I wanted at him and he always held himself tall and proud. And won. Every. Single. Fight.

But not that time. When I twirled out of the way of a bright stunning hex, I saw an opening in his defence and shot one of the new disarming spells at him. To my amazement did it hit him straight in the chest, making him lose his wand that sailed through the air in my outstretched hand. After a few silent moments, I looked at him with a proud grin on my face, but that fell when I saw his dark expression. Afraid that I had somehow hurt him, I'd stumbled towards him, but he'd only took his wand from my hand and sent me to my room. He'd not spoken a single word to me since that fight.

Sighing deeply, I closed the book with a snap and put it down. I had no idea why he was so angry with me. Wasn't my training in duelling supposed to make me better at it? Didn't my father want me to enable me to hold myself in a fight? But instead of praise, I got the silent treatment. It wasn't fair.

With another gentle sigh, I got up from my bed and wandered out of my room, in search of my father. This had gone on for long enough. I was sixteen, in a few months I would start my seventh year at Durmstrang. I was old enough that he could confide his reasons for his anger with me. Whatever I did wrong, I had to know it to avoid making the same mistake again. It was time to talk about what bothered him, even if he tried his best to avoid me.

"Father?", I questioned loudly as I came down the stars to our sitting room.

I heard noises coming from the work room and decided to investigate. Standing in the open door, I observed my father for a few moments. Taking in his googles and his smock, I had to smile at the picture he made. He looked a bit chaotic with a delicate file in his hand, and different kinds of wood floating around his head. Pieces of coral, dittany stalk, vela hair and other possible wand cores were laying on top of his workbench. Watching him handle the wand in the making in his hands with much care, I knew that he hadn't decided on a core yet.

"If anyone ever saw how the great Gregorovic wands are made, they would think you half mad for the mess surrounding you", I said in English.

Though I was born in Bulgaria and currently living in Rumania, we were always speaking English at home. My mother, born and raised in England, had put great emphasis for me to learn her native tongue. I learnt Bulgarian from my father und Rumanian because of the need to speak the language of the country we were living in. My parents valued their origins and were convinced that their daughter should speak their respectively native tongue. Gladly, I was rather clever with languages.

My father's hands never stopped their work, only a slight tilt of his head suggested that he had heard me. Moments of silence passed and I frowned when he kept his quiet. My initial ire turned into hurt when he continued to ignore me.

"Father", I said, my voice small, though I tried to keep my cool.

I was too proud to let him see how his behaviour hurt me, but it was hard to keep the mask on. I had no idea why he was that mad at me. We had fought before, but it had been with yelling and tears and anger. This silence was something new entirely and it hurt me more than I could've ever imagined.

The shoulders of my father dropped and he put the piece of work down. Wiping his hands on his smock, he kept his back to me, as if he couldn't face me.

"Galina", he finally said my name, so gently that it was almost whispered.

I took a step towards him. "What is wrong?"

He sighed loudly and removed his googles, throwing them carelessly on one of the chairs next to him. As he turned around, I saw his worried expression clouding his eyes. I had to blink a few times to keep the tears from falling. What had I done to make him that disappointed in me?

"Oh Galina", he said again, laying his hands on my shoulder as he peered in my face. "Nothing is wrong."

I scoffed, trying to transform my hurt into anger again unsuccessfully. "Then why are you ignoring me?"

My father closed his eyes as if in pain, before he shook his head. When he opened them again, he gave me a small smile and cupped my cheek lovingly.

"I'm sorry. My ego was just battered at the thought that my daughter could overpower me in a duel."

"That can't be all."

Holding my gaze for a second, he nodded and turned towards the chair and motioned me to sit down. I did so, keeping my gaze on my father. Though he was in his prime for Wizarding standards, he looked older today, as something was weighing on him heavily. I waited for him to take his seat as well and held his gaze when he looked at me.

"There is something I need to tell you."

I nodded, my brows furrowed at his serious expression.

"When we were training, you disarmed me."

He took out his wand from the inside pocket of his smock. It was a familiar sight, the long, pale wand, adorned with little knobs that either served as embellishment or support for grip. Though I had seen it often in the hands of my father, I had never held it myself, nor had I seen it from close-up. He laid the wand on his flat hand and leaned forward, so I could examine it without touching.

"This is no common wand", he continued.

I had to smile at that. "No wand you manufacture is common, father."

"I did not make this wand, Galya." His face was solemn.

I felt a rush of warmth at his use of my nickname, the lilt of his native tongue slightly more distinct when he spoke the term of endearment.

"I won it. In a duel", he continued.

"I don't understand."

"In my youth, before I started to earn my money with wandlore and met your mother, did I travel the world. I was reckless and hot-headed and never recoiled from a fight. This brought me a reputation and I found myself in more duels than was good for me. In the last of those duels, I won this wand. It was a harsh fight and I almost lost, but against all odds, I won."

His gaze was far away, as if he was lost in the memory. I listened eagerly, though I had no idea what this story had anything to do with our falling out.

Blinking twice, he turned his eyes back to me, then lowering his glance towards the wand that was still on his outstretched hand.

"This is a powerful wand. The most powerful wand I've ever held in my hands. It's supposed to be unbeatable."

I couldn't keep the doubting frown from my face. "Well, perhaps the wand can't be beaten, but it's owner can, as you proven when you won it."

"Indeed", my father agreed.

"Ever since you disarmed me, the wand doesn't follow my commands like it did before", he explained.

Shocked, I covered my mouth with my hands. That's why he was so angry with me. I had swayed the loyalty of his wand from him. Even though it hadn't been my intention, I had stolen my father's wand that had served him for decades. No wonder he wouldn't speak with me.

"I'm sorry", I whispered the words that he had spoken to me earlier.

But my father scoffed at that, shaking his head. "That is not what I'm worried about."

"But your wand…"

"I have a whole store house filled with wands that would suite me beautifully for my day to day business. I don't care for power anymore. I care for you and for your safety. Winning this wand from me was a thing of the natural order. The student has to pass his teacher at one time. But it puts you in a dangerous position."

I felt like my father was talking to me in riddles. He tried to explain to me why he hadn't been talking to me but I felt like none of his explanations made any sense. How could the winning of a training fight put me in any danger? No matter how strict my father was, I knew that he would never punish me. He continued before I could ask more questions.

"As I've said before, this is no common wand. It is centuries old and it has many names. One of them is the Wand of Destiny. But you should know it under the name of the Elder Wand."

Though my father had still a solemn expression on his face, I had to fight to keep the mocking smile from my face. Maybe the loyalty of his wand had been swayed and he was angry at me for that, but I had no idea why he concocted the story of The Three Brothers in this.

"You can't be serious", I snorted.

He looked at me with grave eyes, not even a trance of humour on his face. He couldn't be serious about this.

"So, you won a wand, that Death himself made, in your youth? Something that mother told me about in a bedtime-story? This is ridiculous", I ended, crossing my arms over my chest.

If he didn't want to tell my why he was angry, fine, I couldn't force him. But he didn't have to pull my leg. Scowling darkly at him, I moved to stand up and leave his work room, when his gentle hand on my arm stopped me.

"What?", I snapped, my angry attitude noticeable in the one word.

"Take it", my father offered me his wand.

"What?", I repeated, feeling like I was thrown from feeling sad to angry to confused and back to angry and confused again. He never left his wand out of his reach, it was always in his hand or secured in his holster.

Ignoring my confusion and reluctance, my father grabbed my hand an put the wand in it. The moment my skin touched the smooth wood, I felt a pulsing from the wand, answered by a pulse of my very own magic. The two mixed and hummed in unity and I could only stare at the piece of magical wood laying so innocently on my hand. There was a power in that wand that I've never felt before. My own wand, strapped on my lower arm via a holster – insistence from my father – added to the feeling and for a few moments I felt almost bodyless with all the magical potency rushing through me. I ripped my eyes from the wand and stared at my father, who had a knowing but sad smile on his face.

"But-", I started, but had to clear my throat to steady my voice, "but that doesn't mean that the stories are true. This is just a powerful wand."

My father shook his head. "Whatever you believe, you can clearly feel the power in the wand."

He waited till I'd nodded my agreement.

"For centuries wizards and witches were after that wand, after that power. You're in danger, Galya."

"You had this wand for as long as I can remember and there never happened anything bad", I disagreed stubbornly, "why should it endanger me now?"

Though I doubted the threat my father described, I had no qualms about believing that the wand was mine now. I could still feel the familiar hum of my actual wand, but the one from my father was just so much _more_.

"There are tracking spells. Not that elaborate to find the usual location, but when such a powerful magical artefact changes its loyalty, it does so with a burst of magic that can be sensed. Wizards who seek that wand already know that it has changed allegiance. And they probably already pinpointed the rough area of the wand. That's why I was working on a new wand since our duel. Many of my wands will suite me, but I need an especially strong one to keep you safe."

"Father," I started, but was interrupted.

"No", he disagreed gently but strongly, "I already waisted enough time coming to terms with the fact that you'll be targeted now. You should start packing, I'm almost finished with my wand. We'll be leaving at dawn."

"Leaving? The manor?" I got no answer and my eyes grew wide. "You can't possibly mean that!"

"Galina!", he snapped, losing his patience for the first time in our conversation. "Don't argue with me on this! I can't risk you as well!"

My hand clenched around the new wand as I took his words in. I knew without asking that he was talking about mother, and it felt like a physical blow. I had been so young when I'd lost her but even as a little child, I had noticed the harsh change my father went through with the loss of his beloved wife.

With my eyes still wide open and my mouth parted in shock, I stared at my father as he tried to regain some sort of control. Swallowing harshly, I also calmed down. I trusted him. If he thought we should leave, then I would listen to him

"What do you need me to do?" I asked him quietly.

"Take your small knapsack and fill it only with the things you can't leave behind. Gather your travelling cloak and some potions, let my owl out of her cote. We'll travel lightly."

I nodded and stood from the chair to follow his instructions. With a swift movement my father gathered me in his arms before I could rush out of the room. Wrapped up in his hug, I held onto his smock tightly, burrowing my face in his chest. He smelled of burned wood, fresh sweat from the work and the mint tea he loved to drink. Although I still didn't believe that I was in possession of the Elder Wand, I was afraid of other people thinking so. They would kill to get an artefact like that. I was frightened and held onto my father for a few moments longer, wallowing in the illusion of the safety of his arms.

"Were will we go?" I mumbled into his chest.

"The British Isles", he answered and gently pushed me from his chest. "Go."

I hurried out of the room, my mind already on the things I had to pack. First, I let Fanya, father's owl, out of her spacious cage. With a loving nib at my fingers, she flew out of the window and I bolted towards my room. I had no idea why we had to leave just this evening, but I wouldn't question father. I had never seen him afraid, not even when the news of Grindelwald closing in on our old manor in Bulgaria had reached us. And back then, it had been so bad that we had to relocate from Bulgaria to a remote estate in Romania. Even then, my father had kept his composure. So, seeing him with worry on his face now was reason enough to just follow his orders.

Rummaging through my wardrobe I finally found my leather knapsack and threw it roughly in the direction of my bed. I stared at my clothes for a moment and then down my body, confused what I should take with me. We couldn't attract attention, so I would travel in my usual robes, but I grabbed a pair of trousers that I had nicked from one of the neighbouring Muggle kids. Combined with a shirt it would be more comfortable to travel in. I only added a few undergarments and decided that it was enough. I still had to fill the knapsack with potions and other stuff, clothing was not really my priority. And though the knapsack had an extension charm, it was still limited.

An hour later, I swung the knapsack over my shoulder and rushed down the stairs again. I was in one of my most comfortable travelling robes, the skirt swishing lightly around my legs, while the top section of my robes stretches easily over my form. Additional to my clothes, I had packed almost every potion I could find and a few toiletries as well as some food. I had no idea for what I was packing exactly, so I hoped I hadn't forgotten anything.

Rushing in the sitting room, I saw my father emerging from his work space, a brand-new wand in his hands. The Elder Wand was safely in a holster on my hips while my usual wand was strapped on my lower arm. Eyeing my father, I nodded when I saw that he'd also changed and looked ready to depart. The sun was already setting and if we really wanted to leave with nightfall, we had to hurry.

"Do you have everything?" my father asked me.

I shrugged. "I hope so."

He gave me a small smile and cupped my cheek. "I know I didn't tell you, but I'm so proud of you. Your mother would be as well."

Tears gathered in my eyes, and I nodded silently, the lump in my throat too big to speak around it. He gave me a quick kiss on my forehead and led me towards the door, hosting his own knapsack over his shoulder.

"We'll leave the estate as it is, so maybe we can mislead them. From the village we'll apparate to a friend of mine who'll provide us with a portkey to London. From there we'll be travelling the Muggle way to stay undetected."

"Who's after the wand?"

"A powerful wizard", was the only answer I got.

A quick glance told me that my fathers face was rigid with tension. I've never seen my father so worried in my life before. It scared me. So, I followed my father and we left our estate, walking along a small road through a thin forest. There were still the last rays of sun, but the trees provided enough shades so that I had the feeling that the forest was obscure. Our feet made no noise on the road that was a mixture between gravel and trodden in soil. Usually, I liked it here, the trees and the quietness giving a rare sense of peace, but now I was only feeling fearful.

Normally, we would use the horses or the carriage, but leaving the manor as if we were still living there meant leaving this form of transportation behind. So, we walked the next ten minutes in strained silence. I could feel my father's anxiousness just as I could feel my own. With every last bit of self-control, I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder every so often, as I could almost feel the eyes of our faceless pursuer.

Thankfully sooner than later, I could see the nearby village at the end of the street. The population was a mixture between Muggles and magical folk. We've been living at the manor only for a few years, but I had made some very close friends in the village. Actually, my best friend was a Muggle girl who thought that I went to boarding school for the most part of the year. The other witches from the village were friendly enough, some of them were in the same year as I at Durmstrang.

"What about-", I started when my mind drifted towards my friends.

"You can write them", my father interrupted me.

Swallowing my stubborn reply, I face the village again, when I heard a quiet popping sound. Frowning, I thought that I had simply imagined the noise, when I heard it again and again. What were the odds of people apparating here while we tired to leave the country? I was actually pretty sure that things like that could easily happen by chance, but my nerves were too strained to dismiss it as a coincident.

Keeping my eyes forward, I whispered to my father. "Did you hear that?"

He hummed in agreement, but kept from answering otherwise. That only increased my anxiety and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I tried to keep a relaxed posture and expression, as if I was only taking an evening stroll with my father, but dread made it hard to breath.

A few seconds passed before my father started to rummage through his knapsack. I just barely kept myself from staring at him with wide eyes. Was there no threat or was he just that good of an actor?

"Galina dear, I almost forgot to give you your allowance to buy that dress you told me about", he said, his voice clear and smooth. "The maid also sketched out some pattern for new dress robes I want you to order."

He offered me a well-filled pouch and a black notebook that I had never seen before. Too confused and scared to answer, I took the two items from him, and barely kept from flinching when he skilfully sneaked something smooth and tiny in my hand as well.

"Thank you, father", I answered rather stiffly and pocketed the objects in my knapsack, using the digging through my belongings to see what my father had given me.

I almost stumbled when I saw that it was his signet ring. This was my answer. The popping sounds were reason to worry and my father expected the worse. With a deep breath, I slipped the ring on my middle finger, the only finger that could hold the jewellery that was made for my father's little finger.

Securing the bag over my shoulders again, I startled when I felt a touch on my cheek. Raising my head, I saw the strong face of my father looking down on my, tears in his eyes that made my lip tremble with emotion. I knew what would come and I had no idea what to do.

He lowered his head a bit to whisper in my ear while we were still walking. "Always remember, my daughter: I'm so very proud of you."

He straightened again and pulled his shoulders back. I faced forwards as well, but I couldn't stop the tears from falling. This simply couldn't end well. What should I do, what could I do?

"Galina?"

"Yes?", I asked in a small voice, sounding more like an afraid child than a sixteen-year-old young woman.

I didn't know what to do. Who was after us?

"Run", my father said, his voice just as calm as before.

Without a second of hesitation, I pushed my feet into the ground and propelled myself forward, pumping my arms to gain speed. My eyes were locked onto the nearby village, tunnel-vision creeping up on me to focus my attention on my only goal: making it to the village as my father had planned.

Something hot breezed past me, only missing me by inches, and I ducked with a chocked gasp, but never stopped running. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I saw my father engaged in a duel with three other wizards. Hot on my heels were two more, close enough that I could see that one of them had brown and the other straw blond hair.

Acting purely on instinct, I flicked my wand over my shoulder and cast a strong physical and stationary shield. Not slowing in my sprint, it took only a split second to hear the tell-tale sound of flesh connecting with something hard and I knew that both men had run into my barrier.

Using the small reprieve for another glimpse, I saw my father on his knees, still throwing sickly coloured curses. But it was clear that he was losing. Even over the distance, I felt our eyes connect, his grim face softening for a moment before he was battling his opponents once more. There were no words needed to know that he wanted me to flee.

With a sob, I tried to apparate, but not only was my concentration almost non-existent, but there was also an anti-apparition jinx up. I stumbled in desperation but caught myself before I truly fell. My vision was blinded by tears and I had problems breathing trough my fear.

Sending another curse over my shoulder, I risked another quick glance to see if I had managed any harm on my attackers. The scene made me come to a stumbling stop. My father was kneeling in the middle of the street, his head hanging in defeat. The wand of the only still standing opponent was pointed at his head, his own wand nowhere to be seen. He was beaten.

I knew that he wanted me to get to safety, I knew that he wanted me to run, but I just couldn't leave him behind.

"No", I whispered and took a determined step back towards the men, facing my two pursuers who had used my distraction to almost close the distance between us. Before I could even voice a single spell, my father raised his head for the last time and caught my eyes. I was too far away to hear his quiet words, but I could still read the words from his lips.

_Bombarda_.

"NO!", I cried, but crouch low behind a shield on instinct.

Though I was protected, the force of my father's hex threw me backwards and I landed hard on the street. The air was knocked from my chest and I saw dark spots appear in my vision. Ringing in my ears made me deaf for a moment, and I rolled onto my belly clumsily. Everything ached, everything hurt, but nothing was as tortured as my heart.

My father had decided to end it on his terms.

I pushed myself to all fours, then to my knees, and then to stand on my wobbly legs. The street was destroyed. The three man closest to my father were blown to pieced, just like he was. There were traced of blood and fragments of bones. The sight was too unreal to realize that all those bits and pieces had been wizards not only a minute ago. Now they were only smudges.

Stumbling on my feet, I heard a pained groan through the insistent ringing in my ears. Gathering my wits, I saw my two pursuers not too far from me, one of them obviously regaining consciousness. I was stumped for a second before my training kicked in. With a few quick flicks of my wand, I stunned and bound the two men.

I turned on my feet and stumbled as my sense of balance was not yet restored. With heavy feet, I dragged myself towards the village and away from my father, one single question echoing through my mind.

_What am I supposed to do?_

The plan was to apparate to a friend of my father – _he was in smudges now_ – who would provide us with a portkey. But I had no idea which friend he'd meant. I felt numb and hurting at the same time, and I could distinctly feel the burning hot trail of tears on my cheeks. Without my father – _he was in bits and pieces_ – I had no idea what to do. I didn't even know who I was running from. What should I do? What had my father – _he had painted the street red_ – planned?

I fell to my knees and hurled the remnants of my lunch up. The ringing in my ears raised to an almost deafening crescendo before it stopped suddenly. After a few more moments of retching and coughing, I was sure that my stomach had nothing more to give.

Wiping my mouth on the sleeve of my cloak, I got to my feet once more, careful to avoid the sight of the street behind me. Using my other sleeve to dry my tears, I stumbled the last yards towards the village. Father – _ignore the thoughts, ignore the sight, ignore your emotions_ – wanted us to travel to the British Isles, and that's what I would do. Romania was a long way from Great Britain and it wasn't safe times to travel, but I had no other choice.

One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, I made my way through the last bit of the forest, finally reaching the end of it. Only when I entered the village and made my way towards the apparition point did I hear the screams and yells. Blinking to regain my focus, I saw the flickering lights of flames licking on some of the houses. They were attacking the village as well!

"Mina!" I rasped the name of my best friend.

Without any conscious thoughts, my feet carried me towards her home. I hurried along the small streets, trying to avoid the main road where most of the havoc seemed to be. Ducking behind some hedges and using all the cover I could get to keep myself from being detected, I crept along the smaller alleys of the village. There were yells and bangs, it was utter chaos, and I couldn't be seen before I knew were Mina was. I had no idea if the attack was because of my father and me or if it was simply bad luck. Grindelwald had been coming closer and closer to this part of our country, we had known that.

Reaching the small town-house, I got up on my tippy toes and peered through one of the windows, but the house seemed empty despite the burning candles. Tipping my wand against the pane, I unlocked it and pushed it open. Pulling myself through the now open window, I fell rather awkwardly into the kitchen of the house. I ignored the dull pain of new bruises forming and crept through the kitchen.

"Mina?" I hissed, my voice tight with fear.

A loud bang from outside made me flinch and I ducked low on instinct. Clenching my jaw, I swallowed another sob and moved towards her room, the half-dried traces of my tears itching on my cheek. Outside, the world seemed to have transformed right into hell. Fire was licking on everything that was flammable, screams filled the air and almost drowned out the occasional yelled curse. It was a battle field.

I reached my best friend's room, but it was empty. The candles were still burning and her slippers stood close to her bed, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you?" I asked the empty room.

Hasting back, I reached the window that I had opened and slipped back out again. Rushing around the house, I peered around the corner only to see Mina and her family held at wand's point by wizards in dark uniforms.

"_Protego_!", I yelled, but no shield charm was powerful enough to withstand the killing curse.

I rushed forward but there was nothing I could do. Bright green lights zipped through the air and found their target. Mina and her family crumbled in a heap. _No, no, no, no, no_.

I used their moment of surprise to stun one of the wizards, before I was engaged in a battle with the remaining ones. Anger and hate streamed through my fear and all I could think about was to hurt those people just as badly as they had hurt my loved ones.

Ducking under a brownish hex, I sent a spiteful _Avada Kedavra_ as an answer, feeling nothing when it hit one of the men. With every curse, I took a step closer, with every hex, I gained the upper hand and with every passing second, I made them fear me more. It was like a choreographed dance, using well elaborated footwork for fluid turns, that gave me an efficient position to counter-attack. Father – _he was dead, dead, dead, they had killed him_ – had taught me to battle and though Mina – _on the dirty ground, motionless, lifeless_ – had educated me about tolerance and empathy, I chose to ignore her lessons at the moment.

"That's her!", I heard the distant yell and the last attacker was distracted enough so I could hit him with a curse that would send him into a coma where he would live through his worst nightmares until he either died or the curse was lifted.

Still in a crouch I observed my surrounding. The ground was littered not only with my opponents but also with dead or injured villagers, most of which I knew. I bared my teeth at the few remaining people that were still on their feet. One of them, a girl my age, had her finger pointed at me to accompany her yell to inform the others about me. Wanda, that stupid _curvă_, I knew her from school. She was surrounded by other wizards and witches in the same black uniform as the ones that I fought had worn.

I kept my low duelling position, my old wand in my right hand, ready to fire curses, my left hand held onto the Elder Wand, maintaining a small shield in front of my body. I had no idea when I'd drawn the powerful wand, but I had also no intention of pocketing it.

Narrowing my eyes as one of the wizards pulled an object from his cloak, I saw him speaking into it. It took me a few seconds before I realize that he was using a two-way mirror. Ignoring the whimpers and sounds of desperation and pain around me, I kept my focus on the enemies in front of me, trying my best not to curse Wanda. She'd always been a stupid bint, prejudiced and cruel. Wanda's yell seemed to indicate that the men were after me. Or at least partly interested in me.

What should I do, could I do, to make it out of this alive?

My thoughts were cut short when a tall man appeared in the middle of the street with a loud crack. An imposing figure with blond, almost white hair and sharp but handsome feature. I identified him immediately.

Gellert Grindelwald.

Though some of the people out on the street were Muggles and didn't know of him, we all froze in fear. There was something about him that almost screamed danger and I felt a shiver run down my spine when he locked his eyes on my still crouched form. My teeth were still bared and the tears were still falling.

His lips stretched into a smile that was as charming as it was face when he addressed me, but I didn't listen to him. All of my mind was consumed by one thought. _He had apparated here. They had to lower the anti-apparation jinx to allow him that. Maybe they hadn't raised it again._ With that in mind, I took a last look around me, glancing at the still living villagers, both magical and Muggle, that I would leave behind. Seeing Mina's crumbled family near me. Wanda, unharmed and flanked by her parents. Lastly, looking towards the edges of the village where my father – _red, red, so much red_ – had fought for his life and lost.

I redirected my eyes back to Grindelwald, looking on his lips that formed word, but I still heard nothing. I concentrated and focused and fixed my mind on that one destination that I wanted to reach. When I felt my whole self consumed by the need to apparate to that small village at the border to Hungary, where my mother loved to spend her vacation, I spun on the heels of my feet, still in my crouch, with Grindelwald talking about something and me fully aware that I was running away. But I refused to end like Mina – _lifeless, cold, in the dirty_ – or my father – _blown to smithereens, red, liquidly_.

Unfortunately, the anti-apparition jinx was already up again.

Fortunately, it was nothing against the combined powers of my determination and the Elder Wand.

With a deafening crack, I left the village behind, the furious roar of Grindelwald almost inaudible against the sound of my disappearance.

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**A/N: Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

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Two – Starting the Journey

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Rubbing my eyes, I tried to kept the tears at bay.

I knew that I could remove the Trace from my original wand, but I'd always been pretty bad at the practical parts of wandlore. I only needed to concentrate enough and it would be a piece of cake, but I felt tired and angry and sad and the exhaustion was deep inside my bones. So deep that I felt like I would never be free of it again. I couldn't deal with anything anymore. Thus, making me want to cry because I thought that removing the Trace from my wand was simply too much to handle for me right now.

Pressing the heels of my palm hard enough against my closed eyes to see stars, I finally lowered them. With a deep breath, I tried to calm myself and stop the self-pitying. I could do that later. When I was safe again and was able to lose myself in the maelstrom that my emotions were.

I repositioned myself on the wobbly chair and rolled my shoulders, allowing myself to relax in the room that I had rented for the whole reminder of the night. Arriving at the outskirts of village in the dead of the night, I'd quickly changed into the only other outfit I had brought with me: the Muggle trousers and shirt. Stuffing my hair under a shapeless cap and slumping my shoulders a bit to hide the physique of my body, I could almost be mistaken for a young and very androgynous boy.

When I'd reached the only inn of the small town, I'd almost confunded the old lady behind the counter, before I stopped myself short. Not only had my wand still the Trace, but magic left always evidence. It was rather unlikely that any of Grindelwald's people would ever make it to the small town and it was even more unlikely that they would take a glimpse into the mind of that specific lady. But better safe than sorry.

So, I'd produced some coins of the Muggle currency from the depts of my knapsack and had paid for a room for the night. Although I'd wanted nothing more than to stay in this room forever and hide under the blanked, I knew that I couldn't stay too long at one place. It would be safer to stay on the move. I would follow the plan that my father had shared with me, if one could name it that. I only knew that London was one destination on our route, but I had no idea which was our final one. I would worry about that if I ever made it to London alive and well. To achieve that, I had to cross numerous countries that were not only ensnared in a Muggle war, but also a magical one. To top that off, I obviously had Gellert Grindelwald's men hot on my heels.

I clenched my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling as I once more realized the hopelessness of my situation. Five deep breaths later, I told myself that I had to tackle one thing after another, otherwise I would lose my mid.

"Alright", I whispered to myself, taking another calming breath.

Concentrating on my old wand in front of me, I raised the Elder Wand and swished it in an intricate pattern above it. Murmuring lowly, I willed my magic to accomplish the task that I had set my mind to. I envisioned the wand, its core and its magical ability, and the spell that the Romanian Ministry had woven into the very fabric of that wand. With one syllable after another, I muttered the counter-spell until I was sure that my original wand was free of the Trace. In Romania and most of the rest of Europe, young wizards and witches only acquired the status as adults with the age of eighteen, so I had cheated the freedom to cast without surveillance by two years.

I leaned back in the old, creaky chair and pocketed the Elder Wand. I had no desire to use it more than necessary. That bloody wand was the reason for all the chaos. It as the reason why my father had been killed and Mina had been slaughtered, along with half of the village. It had caused me to run from my home.

"Stop it", I growled to myself, trying to ban the dark thoughts from my mind.

I had to plan. I needed to find a way to make it to London.

With my own wand – though the Elder Wand had accepted me as its mistress, it felt wrong to call it 'my' wand – I sketched the boarders of the European countries with brightly burning lines in the air, letting the picture float. Grimacing, I hoped that my impromptu map wasn't too much off as geography was not my brightest subject.

Eyeing the map, I pinched my lips in thought. I couldn't just apparate there. It was ages ago that I'd been in Paris or Brussel, or any other city that was closer to the English border. I had no idea if those localities still looked the same and I didn't know of any other official apparition sites, that I could use. Providing that Grindelwald didn't monitor those sides. And apparating blind was out of the equation. The probability to splinch myself was so high, that it was almost a given.

I had no Portkey at hand and I've never learned to create one in the practical sense. Reading about it and understanding the theory and trying it with my life depending on my success were vastly different things. Furthermore, for all I knew, Portkeys could be monitored, even unauthorised ones, because of their unique magical signature. Unless I found a Portkey that was authorised and created by someone who knew their magicks, I had no resources in that department as well.

Floo would be one realistic and not too dangerous option, if I found a fireplace that was hooked to the Floo network and if I knew the name of the arrival fireplace. The distance of my travel would be limited, but it was better than nothing. Since I was sitting in a very Muggle inn right now, I could cross Floo off my list, but keep it in mind. Flying was out of the quest as well. I had no broom and I had no idea what magical means made a broom fly. Unless I stumbled across one, a broom wasn't an alternative either.

Insofar my travel options weren't too bright. My desperate mind reminded me of the ship that my school used for large-scale travel, but this was not even an alternative that I could to entertain, for too many reasons.

"Urgh", I made an unhappy und unattractive noise deep in my throat.

So, assuming that I had no magical means of transportation, I needed to travel like a Muggle. That meant that I would cross (Austro-)Hungary and Germany to make it to France, where I would cross over to Great Britain. I guessed that I could hide well enough all things considered, though I had no desire to enter Germany. The real challenge would be the crossing from France to Britain. I eyed my amateurish map. As incomplete as a plan could be, I would first head for Vienna and then for Reims. Even if my drawing was off, I knew that the cities should roughly be en route towards my destination.

Sighing, as the bone-deep fatigue weighted down my body, I at least had some sort of a plan. Vienna – Reims – London, via Muggle transportation – that I know almost nothing of -, unless I found a better way which I highly doubted. I had no idea what distance that journey was and how long it would take to accomplish it, but I had no other choice.

Casting a _Tempus_, I realized that I had five solid hours before I had to make it down to the dining area where the breakfast would be offered. Luckily for me, the breakfast was included in the price for the night's stay.

I removed my clothing until I was only in my brassiere and knickers and flopped onto the bed, pulling the thin blanket over my body. Casting a quick warming charm that would never persist for five hours, I tried to find a comfortable position, but the Elder Wand kept poking me in my hips. With a low growl I surrendered to an uncomfortable sleeping position. There was no way that I would put the Deathstick out of my reach, I clearly remembered the story of The Three Brothers and how the oldest one had parted with his life.

With that joyful thought I fell asleep in mere seconds.

* * *

"Don't worry, _băiat_", the old owner of the inn laughed in his beard, the rural dialect heavy in his Romanian lilt, "the lorry will take the young men towards Budapest, where they're drafted for the war. You're way too young to be of use for them!"

I clenched my jaw as he laughed, as I didn't find it one bit funny. Those boys, hardly any of them twenty years of age, were not so much older than me, although my disguise seemed to transform me into a boy of maybe twelve years. I thanked my slight build for the first time in my life. But those boys would die in the war and the inn owner had nothing better to do than laugh about it. I stopped the grinding of my teeth before I ruined them definitely.

"So, I can simply join them on the journey?" I asked, trying to modulate my voice into something that sounded like boy in his puberty voice change. Once more, I was thankful for the broad education I had received thanks to my parents, as I could disappear within the locals, though my Romanian did sound a bit posh indeed.

"Sure, sure", he asserted.

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but stopped himself when he saw one of his patrons trying to help himself to a bottle of alcohol from behind the counter.

"_Ei_!", he yelled in clear annoyance, "you have to pay for that!"

With that I was obviously forgotten and I finished my breakfast – gruel, a piece of dry bread and a coffee that could wake up the dead – in silence. My knapsack was already with me, so I simply brought the dishes to the counter of the kitchen and left the inn. Though I've had a short night, it had been restful. The moment my head had touched the pillow, I've been out, no nightmares disturbing my slumber. Maybe I had been too tired to even dream.

Just outside of the inn was a rather big yard with an old well that was currently used as a loading zone. There was an open lorry, where a few young men were hurrying around. The vehicle was obviously not only the means of transportation for some men to Budapest, but also to get rations. Potatoes and onions piled on the ground of the truck, so it would be an uncomfortable exercise to find a sitting position.

"Do you still have one seat?" I asked without introduction when I was nearing the men.

One of the men looked up, assessing me quickly. "For someone as small as you? We'll find something. But are you sure you want to travel that direction?"

"_Da_", I affirmed and lent them a hand for the last few bags of food.

"Alright", one young soldier rounded up the other men, when all the food rations had found their way on the lorry, "get on the truck, we'll be leaving in five!"

I waited till all of the passengers had taken a seat, before I climbed the vehicle myself. That meant that I had to balance on top of a sack full of potatoes, but it was still better than sitting in the middle of all those strangers. I needed my privacy.

The soldier hopped in the driver's cabin and started the motor with a low rumble. The whole lorry vibrated and I suddenly felt nervous. I'd seen cars and other Muggle transportation before, but I've never been in one. I knew that I had nothing to fear, but I still felt anxious.

But the driver steered the lorry skilfully on the bumpy road and our journey began. Wiggling a bit around to find a comfortable position without crushing any of the onions next to me, I pulled the black book my father had given me from my knapsack. After all that planning last night, I hadn't been able to take a look into it, so I'd decided to use the long drive to Budapest to read it.

Before I could open it however, a hand appeared in front of my face. Slightly startled, I looked up into the young and friendly face of one of the passengers. I was confused for a moment before I understood the Muggle gesture. Leaning forward I grabbed his hand and gave it a confident shake.

"Ivan", he introduced himself with a smile on his face.

"Name's Miloš", I quickly lied.

Looking around, I saw that all the young men making introductions with each other. I gave a half-hearted smile and wave and repeated my cover-name louder, so I wouldn't have to go through the struggle to shake every single man's hand. I knew that I appeared impolite, but I simply wanted to start reading my father's notebook, so I gave a stiff nod and focused on the booklet again. Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind, they only turned towards company that was interested in conversation.

Opening the book carefully, I skimmed towards the fist page with an entry, my fingers tracing the neat script of my father. But I frowned when I saw that it was not a notebook, like my father had said. Judging from the form of the entry, it was a diary. My father's diary.

I sucked in a shocked breath and looked up in worry that someone had seen my suspicious behaviour but they were all too busy with making acquaintances with each other. Lowering my glance once more, I started to read, eager to learn why my father had given me his diary.

* * *

_'… __and because of that I will never see my beloved Adelina again. Hadn't it been for the wand and for my carelessness, I could still hold my wife in my arms. Now, I will never see her again. I cry silent tears, while I try to keep little Galya safe and sound. Holding my daughter in my arms, all I can see is her mother's eyes, and the similarity of their delicate features. It hurts so much and I love her so strongly. How will I ever keep her out of harm's way?...'_

I continued reading about how my father had planned to mislead others with a rumour that the Elder Wand was somewhere in Japan, but my eyes burnt too badly. The tears threatened to fall and I was afraid that I would ruin the ink, if I cried on the diary. Snuffling delicately, I carefully rubbed the sleeves of the coarse Muggle jacket over my face to vanish the evidence of my sadness.

Peeking from the corner of my eyes to my companions, I was glad that no one seemed to have noticed the display of emotions. Some of them were in deep slumber, hunched in positions that would leave them in awful backpain. The earlier chatter had quieted down, but we were on the road for a few hours now, so that was no wonder. Blinking against the sun that was standing high in the sky, I tried to evaluate how far we'd gotten, but I had no idea. Muggle traveling was foreign to me. Judging from the relaxed manner of the other passengers, I guessed that we still had a long way to go, although we'd already spent the whole morning on the rumbling vehicle.

Deciding to take a quick break from the reading to let my emotions settle down and to rest my eyes, I rolled my shoulders and watched the surroundings pass by. The street we were travelling on was nothing more than hardened soil, accompanied on one side by a sparse forest and on the other side by some fields, that held no crops, though it was harvest season. The sight was rather depressing.

After a few moments of my staring, I saw something in the distance along the road that made me peek up. Though our lorry was rather slow – maybe I was prejudiced by apparition and Floo – we were closing in on the walking figures at the side of the road. When we were close enough, I saw that it was a mother and a small child. Both of them were clothed in dirty rags, no shoes no their feet but heavy sacks on their shoulders, even the little one. From up close, I could see that their cheeks were hollowed and that they were struggling with the weight of their load. We passed them and they only gave us a faraway look, not noticing us otherwise.

I was shocked. The two looked half-starved and sick.

I must have shown something on my face, as the young man from before, Ivan, addressed me.

"The war leaves us all tired and hungry."

Looking up, I saw him still gazing at the two Muggles, his expression neutral. I had so many questions, I didn't even know where to begin. Because of my friendship with Mina, I knew that the Muggle war was exceptionally harsh and brutal, but I had never witnessed it first-hand. Hearing about the starving population was something different than seeing it. Even more so, our village had been rather spared from the war, me being magical only more so.

"What were they doing?" I asked.

"Probably searching for food in the woods. Maybe mushrooms or some edible roots or stuff like that. My mother used to do that as well, before her back got worse."

I looked back, but I couldn't see the two figures anymore. "They looked so worn."

Ivan laughed without humour. "Well, I guess that's because they are."

He saw my pinched expression and gave a shrug, a dismissive and joyless smile on his face. "_Băiat_, this is a war. The men are away to fight and lose their lives, and the women and children are at home, starving and losing their lives as well. Maybe our leaders will win this war, but we sure as hell won't."

I stared with wide eyes at him. His perception was probably right but I had no idea how to answer. We were currently on our way to Budapest so he could join the forces against the Wehrmacht and he clearly seemed to realize that he would give his life in this war. But there was no anger, no reluctance or even worry in his face. I could not understand how he could see the reality of this war, without being angry that he was dragged into it.

I was bloody angry that Grindelwald was after me. And afraid and weak and so very tired.

Ivan slapped me on the back, making me teeter dangerously on the sack of potatoes I was sitting on. He shook his head with a disbelieving smile on his face.

"Oh, how sheltered you must've grown up", he mumbled more to himself than to me.

I turned away from him. There was nothing that I could say to that. Yes, my childhood had been lovely. The death of my mother had been the only bad thing that had ever happened to me, up to the attack from Grindelwald's men yesterday. My father had been a good man, strict but caring. I've never had to wish for anything, we've never been short on food and there were always more than enough Galleons in our vaults. The work of my father had provided extremely well for his family and though I wasn't spoiled, I knew that I had no idea of the hardship of life.

Pressing the diary of my father to my chest, I kept my eyes on the horizon. Ivan was lost in his own thoughts as well, seemingly undisturbed by our conversation. But I was deeply rattled. There was no chance that I would make it to London through numerous war-stricken countries. And even if I could, what would I do once I arrived there?

One single tear slipped from the corner of my eye and I pressed my lips tightly together, so they wouldn't tremble. Hopelessness was an aching void in my chest and I felt it consume me.

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**A/N: Leave a review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

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Three - In Stages

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I stumbled from the lorry rather inelegantly, my legs weak from the prolonged stay in the folded seating position. The journey had taken up even more time than I'd thought. The streets had been awful and we had to circuit no less than four different obstacles on our way. Not to mention that we had to pass military controls numerous times. Gladly, they hadn't been too interested in the young boy, that I posed as.

After my short conversation with Ivan, I hadn't been in the mood to continue reading the diary. So, I had used the time to observe the villages and the people that we passed. Everywhere were clear signs of the hardship of the war. I had no idea how I had been able to miss it. Living in the magical world was no excuse.

"This is a ten-minute break", the driver, who looked obviously tired, informed us. "You can take a piss, you can stretch your legs, but if you're not back in ten minutes, we'll go on without you. We're already late, we can't afford any further delay."

Some of the men grumbled, but none of them voiced any real disagreement. I guessed that they were just as happy as I that we would continue our journey quickly. I couldn't wait to call it a day.

Waving off Ivan who offered me to join them to take a stroll, I walked a few paces into the light forest to pee. I was careful to cast a quick _Notice-Me-Not_ charm. Being caught with my trousers around my ankles and my arse on display would not only embarrass me, but also blow my cover.

I took a few seconds to not only relieve myself, but also to take a breather. I re-braided my hair and secured it under my cap, using a weak sticking charm to make sure that I wouldn't lose it accidentally. Cupping one hand, I cast an _Argumenti_ to drink some water, as I was parched from the long journey on the vehicle. It seemed that both the smelly fumes form the lorry as well as the dusty airstream did a great job drying out my mouth. Though I felt sticky and sweaty, I resisted the urge to use a _Scourgify_ on my clothes. It would be too suspicious if I reappeared squeaky clean.

If my mother could see me right now – dirtied, taking a wee in the forest, surrounded by unknown male company without a chaperon – she would surely lose her pureblood shit. I pushed the thought from my mind.

With a few more minutes to spare, I got back to the truck, most of the other men had already gathered around it. They were passing a bottle of some clear liquid around and I declined with a thankful nod, because I assumed that it was similar to an alcohol that Mina had introduced me to a few months ago. I hadn't liked it. Instead, I reached for a bottle of water and sipped it, listening to the conversation. Their local Rumanian accents were too strong and I had troubles understanding them.

"… not, it's true!"

"Pffsh, no story like that could be true!"

I turned to Ivan who had taken position next to me. "What are they talking about?"

"Some stupid rumours."

"About?"

He heaved a sigh. "There are strange things happening in Budapest and they say that Hitler has found a way to use magic."

"Magic?", I asked a bit too quickly, but Ivan only scoffed.

"It's not true, _băiat_. Don't worry."

He waved his hand dismissively as if he wanted to end the conversation, but I was curious now.

"What kind of magic would that be?", I asked with a scoff in my voice, as if I thought the whole idea ridiculous.

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "It's said that they can bind you without any ropes and they can make you hurt without touching you." He shrugged again, a dismissive smile on his face. "Some even say that they have wands, just like in the stories my mother used to tell me."

I gave a weak laugh. That wasn't a distinct description of wizards, but I was already paranoid enough to fear that Budapest housed some wizards or witches. Even worse, it seemed that they were in service of Hitler, or maybe Grindelwald used the German dictator as a cover story for his own atrocities.

"Not so keen to get to Budapest anymore?" Ivan followed up when he saw the discomfort on my face.

It was my time to shrug my shoulders. "I have to admit that I believe in bad luck."

Ivan laughed. "Well, maybe you can avoid entering Budapest. I'm sure we'll take another rest before we reach the city. If it suits you, you could leave us there. The wicked _vrajitori_ are only in the big bad city."

I gave him a nondescript smile and pushed off the side of the truck when the other men started to climb in again. It seemed that the break was over and we would continue our journey. I took my usual seat, feeling Ivan's curious eyes on me. Smiling politely, I turned away from him and got my fathers diary out of my bag again. Better to read this than to engage Ivan further in any conversation.

Leaning against the sack of onions, I ignored my fellow travel companions. If I really wanted to leave the travel party earlier, I should probably _obliviate_ their memories of me, erasing my tracks. Less interaction meant less memories, less memories meant a less invasive memory spell.

* * *

The lorry stopped jerkily and I almost fell in Ivan's lap. Straightening my posture, I hopped from the truck and went straight for the water, wandering a bit away from the lively group.

This was our last stop before we reached the city and I was certain that I would listen to Ivan's advice. I would avoid the city, hopefully bypass big Wizarding gatherings as well. This meant that I had to disappear and that I would lose my means of transportation. It was still probably the better chance.

There were quite a few men and I was not sure how I was supposed to obliviate them all, as obliviation needed a great deal of concentration and it required the spell to be individually. Unlike some spells that could be cast on a whole group of people, this one had to be cast for one after another. It was unrealistic for me to even attempt something like this.

Thus, I wandered away from the men, till I was standing far enough away to have them all in my sight. With an adept flick of my wrist, I had my wand in my hand and made a swirling notion, involving all the men in my spell.

"_Confundus_", I murmured lowly, deliberately overpowering the spell.

This was the best I could do. Thanks to this spell, they wouldn't realize that I was missing from their group. Additionally, for those of them who hadn't spent too much time with me or too many thoughts on me, they would probably forget about me altogether.

Hitching my knapsack a bit higher on my shoulder, I threw one last glance at Ivan and silently wished him the best. He seemed to be a rather good man, maybe a bit cynical, but I really hope that he would make it out of this war alive.

I watched them as the driver gunned the car and then drove off. With a small dust cloud from the dry ground, they disappeared behind a curve in the street. With a heavy sigh, I turned away, blinking away some irrational tears. There was no need to be sad about the loss of my company. I had only spent a few hours with them, not nearly enough to feel gloomy to be alone again. It was probably the stress of my situation that made me this emotional.

Resolutely, I placed my wand on my open palm and cast a simple _Point Me_ spell to direct me towards the west. If I estimated my position correctly – which I somehow doubted, as I had no idea what several hours of Muggle transportation meant in covered distance, I only knew that we were already well in Hungary – I reckoned that I needed to travel farther west to cross Hungary and reach Austria. Hopefully I would find a map on my way there. Guessing my position and my route was just too uncertain to go by.

Hiking the thumbs in the shoulder straps of my knapsack, I followed the path that the spell had shown me, straight across the barren farmlands. With determination, I marched on, hoping that I would cover as much ground by foot as I could.

* * *

"Oh Gods", I muttered in exhaustion as I lowered myself inelegantly on the ground, my back resting again the rough trunk of the tall birch.

I had spent the rest of the day walking towards the west and my feet were killing me. I was used to physical exertion, as my father had always placed value both on my duelling skills magically and non-magically. This meant I was accustomed to hard training sessions, but even the longest took only two hours, never several hours on end with me traipsing through Hungary's backcountry. My feet hurt and my legs were heavy.

Pulling my boots from my feet, I carefully peeled the sweaty socks off, wincing when I saw the multiple blisters that caused my agony.

"_Episkey_", I murmured, watching as the battered skin was knotted together magically.

I wiggled my toes and sighed in relieve when I could feel no new pain. It was only the dull ache from overexertion. Pocketing my wand, I gently started to massage my feet, careful to not upset the newly healed skin. Kneading the skin made my feet crack but it felt good.

"Right", I remembered myself, "you need a plan, Galya."

It was almost nightfall, the dusk already casting long shadows caused by the trees surrounding me. I could probably continue my travels in the night, but I couldn't risk to mess up later just because I was tired. The sensible thing to do was be to rest and start anew tomorrow morning at daybreak.

I was ripped out of my thoughts by thundering noise above my head. Though it wasn't the first time that I heard that particular noise, I still froze up and made myself smaller, as if I could avoid detection by hiding myself under the leaf canopy of the small forest at my back. What I was hearing was a plane. I knew about them because of Mina and today I had seen them in the sky for the first time. It was a curious sight, metal birds high – or sometimes not so high – in the air, breaking the silence with their powerful propeller. Thankfully they always just passed over me, but I got still nervous when I heard one and the further I travelled, the more frequently I saw and heard them.

The noise disappeared slowly and I relaxed. They seemed to be no danger to me and I shouldn't be so paranoid all the time. They were probably just transporting something with those Muggle planes. No need to worry.

"Yep", I scoffed sarcastically at my own try to appease myself, "you're perfectly safe in this forest, surrounded by wild animals, the Muggle enemy and some of Grindelwald's men probably only a few miles away. Nothing to worry about."

Smiling at my dark humour, I pushed myself heavily to my feet and examined my surroundings. This tree would do just well enough to serve as my place for the night. I swished my wand through the air, casting cushioning charms, warming charms for the coming chill of the night, heavy wardings and detection spells around me. It wouldn't be comfortably, but it was enough for me to get at least a few hours of rest. Maybe I got a bit overboard with my protection charms, but I couldn't shake the nervousness I felt when I thought about spending the night in the open.

Finally, I settled down in my makeshift bed. After some tossing and turning, I fell asleep.

Only to wake up with a gasp in the middle of the night, cold sweat on my forehead because of the awful nightmare I just had. I had been caught in the little forest road my father and I had used to reach the nearby village from our manor. Over and over again, I had to witness the last moments of my father. The first time he had mouthed the words that would result in his own death. But after that, he had spoken to me, accusing me to cause his death, to be a coward, for being weak. The worst was that I agreed with him. I was a coward and I was weak. And in the end, it was my fault that Grindelwald's people were after us, because I had changed the allegiance of the Elder Wand.

I rubbed my hands tiredly over my face and wiped some of the sticky sweat off my forehead. There was still the lingering adrenalin in my body, trying to push me into a fight or flight reaction. With my hands pressed over my eyes, I froze when I heard a snapping sound nearby. Lowering my lands slowly, I flicked my eyes over my surroundings, seeing nothing ta first. Maybe I hadn't been woken by my awful dreams but by a noise in the real world. I grew more restless and felt for my wards. They were humming with their activity but they hadn't been activated by a Muggle or a wild animal.

There was rustling and then another crack, this time more audible. My head snapped in the direction of the noise and I trained my eyes and ears to find if there was anything out there. The forest was still gloomy, full of shades that seemed to move from one tree to another. I had a hard time distinguishing if it was the branches moving and casting shadows or if my imagination was running wild. But then I heard something different and I froze in fear.

A low noise, something between a wheeze and a growl came from the direction I was looking at and my eyes locked onto a form that I could only see because it revealed itself with a slight movement. It looked like a female with long and unkempt hair, that fell in greasy strains in her face. Her body was covered in rags, revealing spindly arms and pale skin, but also claw-like hands. Deep wrinkles and the grey colour of her hair spoke of a long life, but there was nothing grandmotherly in her eyes when she looked at me. The dark pools of her eyes were what really frightened me. They were filled with hunger and pure madness.

It was a hag. I'd never seen one before, had never been in close proximity and I was glad that I'd been that lucky up until now. There was a reason why hags were categorized as a dark creature and why witches and wizards were wary of them. She looked dreadful and if her glance was anything to go by, I guessed that she wanted to do dreadful things to me as well.

Both of us stood frozen in the forest, staring at each other as if we'd no idea what to do. I wanted to curse myself for my carelessness to link my wards only to Muggles, Wizarding folk and animals. Why hadn't I thought about magical creatures? How could I have been that naive?

Seconds passed and there was still no movement from us. My hand held my wand in a sweaty palm and I knew that I was still staring at the hag with almost comically wide eyes, but I couldn't keep myself from showing my fear. I simply didn't know how to react. Just as I was staring at her, she was staring at me. Was I supposed to attack first? Could I simply turn my back on her and leave his place?

From a distance, I could hear the rattling sound of another Muggle vehicle, but it closed in faster than I'd supposed. Judging from the direction, it was above our head. Another plane. I felt the urge to lift my eyes to look for the Muggle aircraft, but my eyes were still locked on the hag.

Thankfully, the hag was a bit more curious than me and looked up, breaking our eye contact. Though my heart skipped a beat, I took the opportunity and flung a full body-binding hex at her, but the hag moved faster than I'd ever judged from her old appearance.

With only a flicker in the dark nightlight, she crashed into me, throwing me on my back, as I was still sitting on the ground. The air was knocked from my body and I was barely able to raise my hands to cover my face as the hag came over me with sharp claws and vicious fists.

I would've screamed in pain as her claws ripped the skin of my arms in an attacking slash, but I had too little air to even mutter a sound. Trying to get my feet between us to kick her off me, I also flicked my wand at her again and sent her reeling with a nonverbal _Depulso_. It gave me enough time to roll away from her and scramble to my feet.

"_Protego horribilis_", I gasped between two desperate breaths and a shimmery bubble formed around me.

The hag didn't stop in her attack and slashed her sharp fingernails through my shield and made it waver and flicker before it crumbled in itself. I threw myself out of her way, shocked that my shield had failed me and thrown off completely how vicious the hag's attack was. With another stumble I just avoided a slash to my face.

"_Confringo!_"

My curse grazed her shoulder and she lost her balance for a second when blood spluttered form her wound, but it only delayed her shortly. In my attempt to get a bit more distance, I had unknowingly turned my back to her – oh, how my father would be disappointed – and she used the opportunity to jump me.

With her heavy weight on my back, I crumbled on the ground, my surprised gasp muffled by the moist forest ground. I felt a sharp pain at my upper back and cried out and bucked to get her off me. I only accomplished to lose her hold on me enough, so I could roll on my back, pushing her off me in the process. Within a few seconds she was on me again, and I raised my arms to cover my face once more as she slashed and hacked, hissing viciously at me.

With a wordless scream, I aimed my wand and sent a few cutting curses nonverbally at her, to breathless form the pain to voice them. The hag was flung back, wreathing on the ground, her numerous wounds leaking deep-red blood on the forest ground. Crawling backwards crab-like, I gained a bit more distance, staring at the hag with wide eyes.

"_Diffindo_", I panted, pointing my wand the hag's throat.

She was thrown back by the force of my spell and started to twitch on the ground. I trained my eyes on her belly to avoid the view of her blood spilling from her veins, nausea creeping up on me nonetheless. Pulse after pulse, the blood seeped from her body, painting her surroundings red. I swallowed heavily, still trying to catch my breath after the short but intense fight. My back and my arms were aching and still bleeding, but I wanted to finish this before I cared for myself.

With a bread swish of my wand, I summoned flames that licked at the now still form of the hag. The blood loss had been severe enough to finally cause unconsciousness and the flames consumed her body without the hag witnessing her own death. I watched as the flames grew higher and the smell of burnt hair filled the air, biting and disgusting.

I weaved another pattern with my wand and muttered a quite _Protego_, encapsulating the burning remains of the dark creature so the rest of the forest wouldn't ignite as well. Also, I simply didn't want to take another sniff of that awful smell. It only lasted a few minutes, but the body of he hag was finally destroyed and I lowered myself heavily on the ground, wincing when I disturbed my back.

Peeling me shirt from the wounds and over my body, I examined the injuries. They looked mean and quite painful – which they were – but not too serious. Canting a healing charm, I carefully ran the tip of my wound on the defensive wounds on my arms, stopping the blood flow and the pain thus. For the bite on my back I had to twist a bit around, which tugged on the injury. I had no other option than to feel for the wound with my fingertips and follow with my wand. It burnt to touch the open flesh, but it was better than to leave the wound untreated.

I threw another glance at the hag and swallowed harshly. That had been close. And a hag wasn't even the most dangerous thing that could happen to me. How was I supposed to make it to safety, when I couldn't even defend myself? My aim hadn't been true, my wand-arm had been unsteady and my casting unsure and hesitant.

"Bugger", I cursed lowly.

How should I make it through the European mainland to reach England, when I was so incompetent? What could probably happen if I came face to face to a real threat, like Grindelwald himself? My fathers training was fine and well but it seemed that it was not enough to make me persist in this hostile environment. If I wanted to endure, I had to step it up a notch.

Looking at the ashes and smouldering pieces of the hag, I already had an idea what I could do. But it was borderline dark magic, a method that was long banned and quite invasive to execute. Yet, it would be effective.

"Bugger", I repeated, rubbing my hands tiredly over my face and wincing when the newly mended and scarred skin stretched uncomfortably.

What would my father do?

I sighed and took a few deep breaths to ready myself to put my plan into action. My father would've already gone through with it. There was no reason to hesitate.

* * *

**_A/N_**

__băiat: __boy

_vrajitori_: wizards, sorcerer

_**Leave a comment! :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Trigger Warnings**_** apply for this chapter. As I don't want to spoil anything, a differentiated trigger warning is put at the very end of this chapter. Check it out if you're unsure about continuing to read. You have been warned. **

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* * *

Four – Turning Grey

* * *

I had always loved reading. Both my parents had fuelled that love in a variety of ways. My mother used to summon me to the library in our old manor. There, we would sit for hours to read different books and discuss the topic subsequently. The choice of the books had been my right, be it from folklore to Muggle crime novels or research papers. My father on the other hand had assigned me specific reading material on which he would quiz me later. I had loved both approaches.

Along one of those study sessions, I came across a book about runes and how ages they were used not only for recording and the strengthening of specific spells in the middle, but also as a means of magical 'containment'. I could remember how fascinated I've been with the idea that some runes could channel magical powers without drawing off the caster. But no matter how intriguing I found the topic and how badly I wanted to try it out for myself, that was simply not an option. That specific use of runes was banned in the 18th century, when blood magic in general had been frowned upon. Furthermore, one needed some ghastly ingrediencies and a high pain tolerance to tap into the containment abilities of runes. All this made it impossible for me to try it, as my mother was a law-abiding witch. My father was another matter altogether, but he relented to his wife in this matter.

But now, neither my mother nor my father where present to scold me. The ghastly ingredient – I looked at the pile of ashes of the burnt hag – was easily within reach and my pain tolerance had been pushed higher and higher thanks to the last few experiences.

"Let's do this", I muttered to myself.

I found a comfortable position on the ground near the ashes, my legs crossed in the typical meditation position. I rummaged through my knapsack to pull a small dagger out of it, while my mind was busy trying to decide which runes and rune combinations I wanted to use, as well as where I should place them. When I finally found the dagger, I'd also decided on the runes.

Taking a deep breath in and pushing the air forcefully out of my pursed lips, I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't keep my palms from getting sweaty. I had no idea if what I attempted would be successful, but it was worth a try, even if it meant pain.

I put the tip of the dagger lightly on the last phalanx of my little finger on my left hand. A hearty breath later, I pushed the tip carefully into the skin and cut a form like a rue into it. Instantly, I started to sweat as the pain travelled through my boy. It wasn't too awfully, certainly the slashing and ripping from the hag had been worse, but it was an unpleasant sensation nonetheless. The rune, _Inguz_, was placed on my little finger, standing for growth and common sense.

"_Tergeo_", I murmured a bit breathless when I had finished the carving.

I siphoned the blood from my hand and continued with my task before I became discouraged. Next, I put a combination of _Raido_ and _Berkana_, signifying my travels and the personal growths and liberation I had to get through. With a jerky breath, I finished the last stroke and put the dagger on a clean cloth that I had laid on the ground. My little finger was pulsing in pain and I could already see the slight swelling of my flesh. Clenching my jaw, I reached forward and swept my hand through the ashes of the hag – the defeated enemy, one of the things that would give the runes magic themselves – to gather some in my hand. Ever so carefully, I rubbed the ashes in the open cuts, conscious that I would leave the dark powdery substance visibly in my wounds.

My first finger was done. It was a plead to gift me with common sense, and to endure my travels with enlightenment and to overcome them as a better witch. The positioning on my little finger should call upon its significance for relationships. In this case it was the relationship between my person and the outside world.

"One down", I muttered to myself, _way too many to go_, I continued silently.

I placed the tip of the dagger on my index finger, carving three decisive lines in between the space of the first knuckle and the back of my hand. _Tiwas_, to always remember what honour and justice meant to me, on my index finger, as this finger represented authority and leadership. Another swipe through the ashes and the cuts on that finger were coloured as well.

Without much hesitation I turned towards my thumb – the finger that symbolizes the will power of oneself – and started carving a slightly more complex rune. This time my breath didn't hitch, as my whole hand had started to go numb. I was thankful for it. _Cut, cut, swipe, swipe_, and the last rune for that hand was tattooed into my skin. _Othala_, so I could remember my roots and my beginnings.

"_Tergeo_", I muttered again and flopped on my back.

My eyes were looking in the sky, watching as the dark blue turned into a lighter bluish-red one, as dawn approached. Breathing in deep and slow, I stayed calm. Though the cuts were superficial and only tiny droplets of blood seeped out of the injured skin, I felt dizzy and queasy. It was just a small ritual, but it was still blood magic, and the thought of the ashes of the hag cursing through my bloodstream was making me feel sick. And as absurd as it sounded, I felt like I was doing something wrong, because it was outlawed centuries ago. The ministries had forbidden it simply on the fact that it was blood magic, not because of its wickedness.

I pushed myself back into a sitting and comfortable position again. My breaths were still deliberately slow, and I tried to find a half-meditating state. I had to get this over with and hesitating meant delay which meant a higher risk to be found in turn.

Taking the dagger in my left hand, I started the carving on my right knuckles, never wavering, never stopping, before I had carved all of them. My harsh breaths – not so slow and deep anymore – were only interrupted by a few _Tergeo_'s to clean my skin off the blood.

_Uruz_ for power and courage in combination with _Eihwaz_ for stability and reliability on my thumb, signifying my enduring strength and steadfastness to make it through all the inflicted trials I had to face. Only _Uruz_ again on my index finger, to combine the meaning of the rune, with the meaning of the position of the rune – courage in my leading and directing. _Eihwaz_ was quickly spelled out on my middle finger, as a request for stability in myself, representing the hope to achieve balance. My ring finger was adorned with _Naudiz_ on its own and a combination of _Naudiz_ and _Uruz_ – a plead to endure suffering and hardships with strength, especially when it came to matters of my loved ones, as the ring finger symbolized the direct connection to my heart. I finished the carving with _Algiz_ for protection and shielding, placing it on my little finger, to fight off dangers from others.

With a last _Tergeo_, I cleaned the blood from my fingers and dumped my whole hand unceremoniously in the remaining ashes of the hag. I rubbed the ashes in the cuts and wiped both of my hands over the moist ground of the forest to add the bit of nature, that the ritual also demanded. Then, I concentrated on my magic, letting it ascend from within my core till I could feel it bubbling under my skin. I willed it to the cuts, pushing it towards the injured skin and guiding my magic to knit the wounds. With a sting of worry, I also tried to visualize my magic cleaning the cuts, as I had no interest in catching a sepsis with all the dirt and ashes in the wounds.

Blinking my eyes, I broke my conscious connection to my magic and looked down at my hands. The carvings were healed, the cuts still pinkish and slightly raised by comparison to the surrounding skin. I didn't feel any different. There wasn't more calmness or strength that I could feel, but it was possible that I could only feel the difference when I came face to face to an enemy. Or maybe I had just botched up the ritual, who knew.

As I pushed clumsily to my feet, I also pushed the uncertainty from me. I did well and I was glad that I had done the ritual. My left hand represented my personal journey and the attributes I valued. My right hand should support my defensive and offensive casting. I've done nothing wrong, even if I felt a bit uncomfortable seeing the dark runes tattooed on my knuckles.

With a tired groan, I bend forward and gathered my knapsack from the ground. I cleaned the dagger but decided against putting it back into my bag and stuffed it into my bootleg instead, where I could snatch it out quickly. For a short moment, I wished I had a bigger knife to defend myself. Slinging the strap of my knapsack over my shoulder, I swiftly checked for the correct direction. I raised my hand over my eyes to shield my vision against the rising sun, straining to see the horizon in the direction where I needed to go. With another deep sigh, I concentrated and apparated towards the farthest visual I had.

Then I sought out the horizon again and jumped, travelling with quick apparition jumps.

I was curious to see how long I could keep that up.

* * *

I took another hearty bite from the stolen carrot and turned a page from my father's diary, engrossed in his writing. Crunching on the food, I wiggled a bit on my butt, trying to make myself comfortable on the hard ground.

I was sitting right in the middle of a field of carrots next to a field with tiny cucumbers – or just unripe ones, I had no idea about agriculture. Without any shame, I had plopped down in the middle of that field and started crunching on the vegetables as my lunch. It was surely not as nutritious as the meals I was used from home, but it filled my belly at least. A _Notice-Me-Not_ charm prevented any passers-by to see me, though the vicinity was like dead. There were no other people, neither magical nor Muggle. I hadn't seen another human soul for almost a day now, and I had no idea if I should be glad or worried.

Turning another page of my father's diary, I halted when I saw a little drawing at the top of the page. It was very stylized, a triangle, with a circle and a line, all layered over each other. I frowned and gently brushed my fingertips over the drawing. It seemed familiar, but I had no idea where I'd seen it before. Taking another distracted bite from the carrot, I blinked into the hot midday sun, a pearl of sweat running down my spine. It could have been a lovely summer day, hadn't it been for the fact that I was on the run and my family and friends were all dead. I shook my head violently and put the thoughts away, imagining the bright sky, the fluffy clouds obscuring all the memories I wanted to ignore. All the bad thoughts would be obscured. Thankfully, the visualisation helped.

Chucking the end piece of the carrot away, I reached for another and pulled it form the soil. A quick cleaning spell, some brushes with my hand, and I had another mouthful of the crunchy vegetable.

Tearing my eyes from the drawing, I continued to read the entry of my father. In this one he had written about his research about the Elder Wand. Some of it, I already knew, like that the wand was fifteen inches long and made from elder wood. New to me was the information that I had a Thestral tail-hair core. I felt a hot wave of shame roll over me, when I realized that I'd never asked my father what the core of his wand was. What an ignorant daughter of a wandmaker I'd been.

My father speculated that this specific core ensured that only wizards or witches that had mastered death, could win its loyalty. I wasn't so sure about that. I knew that I'd won its loyalty before I'd killed anyone, but maybe it had started working better after the fight in the village? I could only guess.

Pointing my wand at a crop a few yards away, I mumbled, "_Accio_ cucumber."

I continued my crunching.

I continued my reading.

I continued my frowning because I couldn't remember where I'd seen the sign before.

Still crunching, still frowning, I turned another page.

_'__The oldest brother asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. The second brother asked for the power to recalled loved ones from the grave. The youngest brother asked for something that would allow him to go forth without being followed by Death.'_

"I already know that", I mumbled through a mouthful of half-chewed cucumber.

My father had told me the rubbish about the Elder Wand and its connection to the children's story of The Three Brothers. He believed in it and I knew that a lot of things were possible in the magical world, but I sincerely doubted that three brothers had attained artefacts – named the Deathly Hollows – that would make one the Master of Death if one could unite them all.

I flipped a few pages back and looked at the drawing again. At least that was explained. The cloak as the triangle, the stone as the circle and the wand as the line. But I felt like I was missing something, like there was something more to the drawing.

A dull bang from the distance made me flinch, and I threw myself on my belly between the crops, before I could recognize the sound as the noises those muggle vehicles sometimes made. Though I had the _Notice-Me-Not_ on me, I barely lifted my head over the plants and kept my eyes on the nearby farm road, both of my hands grabbed on a wand and the diary of my father pressed in the dirt under me. After a few seconds I saw an automobile and watched it drive along the road, disappearing without any fuss, none the wiser that a witch was hiding in one of the fields.

I took a deep breath in and puffed it out again.

For a moment, I had thought that Grindelwald's men had found me. There had been a second of pure panic, where I'd no idea what to do before I'd recognized the noise as the newly familiar sounds of a Muggle engine. I needed to be more careful, always ready to take flight or fight.

I pushed myself back to my knees, and started to brush the dirt from the booklet, my eyes on my father's script and his drawing while my mind was still occupied with Grindelwald. And with a snap, I realized where I'd seen that figure before.

Grindelwald's emblem. It was two G's, mirrored vertically and between the letters was the sign of the Deathly Hollows. That emblem was on the uniform of his men, that's where I'd seen it before.

My mind was running wild and I came to several conclusions. Both meant bad news. The first one was that Grindelwald had really been after me the night he'd attacked the village. It hadn't been an incident how I'd hoped for so long. The second conclusion was that Grindelwald knew about the Deathly Hollows. And if he believed in the Elder Wand enough to slaughter a whole village, then it probably meant that he thought the others Hallows true as well. Maybe he even believed that he would be Master of Death, once he mastered them all.

Grindelwald believed in the Deathly Hallows.

Grindelwald knew – assumed, guessed, suspected – that I had the Elder Wand.

Grindelwald was after me.

I clenched my jaw and closed the diary, putting it away in my knapsack. Clearing my throat, I tried to get a grip of the stirring worry. It wouldn't help me to lie down and cry now, no matter how much I wanted to. So, I gathered all my belongings and took sight of the horizon again. With my wand clasped in my hand and the Elder Wand in my holster, where no one could see it, I started to apparate in quick successions again. The urge to reach England was stronger than ever.

* * *

I stumbled out of my apparition with wobbly knees and knew that this was enough. After a short night thanks to the hag and half a day spending apparating around, I was more than a bit exhausted. Pulling at my muscles to straighten my weak legs, I decided that I would walk towards the cluster of houses I saw in the distance. I still had some Muggle money, maybe I could rent a room again.

Looping both my thumbs through the shoulder straps of my knapsack to try to lighten the weight of it, I marched forward, breathing heavily with the exertion that I felt. The attack on my village – the death of my father – was only a few days old but it felt like I'd lived a lifetime since then. Being on the run was exhausting, both physically and mentally.

I was much closer to the little village when I heard the faint sounds of screams and unfamiliar banging noise, giving me flashbacks of the attack on my village. I froze only for a second before I tipped my wand on the top of my head and the feeling of an egg popped on my head travelled all over my body. Disillusioned, I performed a nonverbal _Silencio_ on my feet and jogged the remaining distance to the village. It was bigger than it had seemed form the distance. The few houses I had seen were backed by many more, standing closer to each other the nearer one got to the centre of the town. The town was a curious mixture of outdated architecture and modern construction, asphalt meeting cobblestones, timber roofs meeting shingles.

I crouched low and crept through the streets until I was able to see the first people since days. There were men running around the village, clothed in a red uniform. They yelled in Russian commands to each other and threats to the villagers. The closest one to me raised a metallic device, pointing it at a woman that was running screaming through the streets. With a slight jerk, the device activated, and I learned where the banging sounds came from. The woman on the other end of the device fell to the ground, red blossoming on her chest. I didn't need a better look at her to know that she was dead. Whoever those men were, those weren't Grindelwald's. They were Muggle, attacking other Muggles.

"_Stupefy_", I whispered.

The man, who had killed the woman, fell to the ground, stunned from my hex. I panted with the adrenalin rush, unsure what I should do. Obviously, this was a fight caused by the Muggle war. But they were killing innocent people. How could I just stand by and do nothing? I had to do something!

I ran over to the crumbled form of the woman, checking her for vital signs but coming up negative. Scanning my surroundings, I heard a piercing scream just before the door of one of the houses in the little street was thrown open and a man in the same red uniform walked out, dragging a young woman that was probably around my age at her hair after him. The female screeched and kicked but was unable to loosen the grip of the soldier.

In quick succession, I first cast another stunner at the man and then cancelled the disillusionment charm on myself. Keeping the _Silencio_ on my feet, I ran in a low crouch to the girl who tried to get her hair out of the death grip of the stunned man. When I reached her, I fell down next to her, scraping my knees on the gravel on the ground.

"Relax", I pleaded in Hungarian, thinking that we were still within the country.

I raised my empty hands to show her that I meant no harm. There was no need for her to know that I had a wand holstered at my arm, not that she would know what I could do with a wand. Her eyes met mine and she ceased her struggling enough so that I could reach for her hair and help her untangle it from the hand of the soldier. It took me long enough to get nervous again and I started to look around, hoping that no one would see us. Especially not with the soldier lying at our feet.

Finally, I was able to free her and tugged her to her feet, sweeping my eyes over her to see if she had and injuries.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

She looked at me with wide eyes, confusion clearly written in them.

"What?" I asked, almost hissing at her.

There were people getting killed in this little town and she had nothing better to do than stare at me? I knew that she was probably in shock, but I had no time to deal with her being like this. I had wanted to help her and I needed the young woman to get to safety.

I grabbed her shoulders roughly, making her wince. "You need to hide!"

She shook her head and shrugged the shoulders under my grip in confusion. And I finally understood. The only excuse I had for taking so long to catch on was that I was just as frightened as the girl was.

"Beszélsz magyarul?", I asked her redundantly if she spoke Hungarian. She shook her head again, grimacing her face. "Bŭlgarski? English? Français? Română? Deutsch?"

Her eyes lit up and she nodded frantically, starting to babble in a harsh sounding language that I deduced to be German from the few words that I understood. It was my time to grimace. From all the languages, I spoke German the worst and I couldn't cast a translation charm to help me with the communication. Earlier on she had been too panicked to realize that I had cast magic, but I couldn't risk breaking the Statue of Secrecy just for us to be able to speak to one another. There was no court in the Wizarding world that would accept a flimsy excuse like that.

"You need to hide", I told her once more, this time in English, not even trying to attempt the words in German.

I had no idea if the girl understood me, but she nodded and grabbed my arm, starting to run down the street with her head ducked down. I had no other choice than to be dragged along but we fortunately only ran for a house on the other side of the street. Releasing me, the girl knocked on the door and whisper-yelled something in German. The door was thrown open and we stared at a broad chest clothed in yet another red uniform. The girl and I gaped in surprise and my mouth opened in shock. I didn't need to look at the girl next to me who was still clasping my hand, to know that this man wasn't the person she had hoped for.

The man was quicker to shake off his surprise and moved to take something from his hip, grasping a device that looked just like the one that the other soldier had used to kill the woman on the street. Moving on instinct, I pushed the girl out of the way with a shove of my shoulder, drew my wand in the same fluid motion and cast a silent _Depulso_ without conscious thought. It hit the soldier straight in the chest, throwing him backwards into the house to crash hard against the wall. The sickening crunch of breaking bones could be heard, followed by another heavy bang as the body connected with the ground. With my wand still outstretched and my eyes wide, I watched as a puddle of blood gathered around his head, growing bigger and bigger.

A small noise ripped me out of the shock that I had just killed another human being, and I whipped my head around to look at the girl, watching her move herself in a sitting position. I had pushed her into the flowerbed that was next to the house door and the young woman had flattened a few colourful petals in the process. Her eyes landed on my wand and I slowly pointed it up into the sky, raising the palm of my other hand up as well.

"I'm not going to hurt you", I said slowly, hoping that she would understand the meaning of the words even if she couldn't understand the language I spoke.

The girl flicked her eyes between my face and my wand, her mouth open in surprise and wonder. I was frozen, even holding my breath, as I was waiting tensely for her to react. After a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, the girl raised her hand towards me, asking me without words to help her to her feet. I puffed out the breath I was holding and slouching my shoulders in clear relieve. I had no idea if she understood that I was a witch or not, but it seemed that she trusted me enough to not attack her. Maybe saving her live twice in only five minutes helped my case.

With a strong tug, I pulled her to her feet. She nodded her thanks and we exchanged another glance, before we started in the house. From the bit I could see of the house, it was fairly unassuming. It was rather small, with two stories und pretty stuffed with old, worn-out furniture. The wooden ceiling made the house look dark and the scratched floor told of a lively home. Though it was rather dark and small, it was clear that it was cozy and the home to a family.

The girl had wanted to reach something or someone in this house and the soldier in the red uniform opening the door could only mean bad news. Creeping through a dark hallway, we heard some muffled sounds coming from the room nearby and I threw a glance back at the girl. Her eyes were wide and her face pale, but she nodded, and we tiptoed to the open door. The closer we got, the clearer got the sounds and I felt my stomach clench, hoping that I misinterpreted the situation.

I sneaked up on the open door and peered around the doorframe. It could've only been a few seconds at the most that I needed to take the scene it, but I saw every gruesome detail. A bulky man holding a woman in her mid-thirties down, slapping her with an open hand when she made an especially tortured sound, while another was going between her legs, her skirt crunched in his big fists as he pumped his hips to snap against hers. I noticed the bruises already forming on the pale thighs, I saw the tears glittering on her face and blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. To my utter horror, I saw the man between her leg grin and then picking up the speed which made the woman only screech louder. This prompted the other male to lay a beefy hand over her mouth to silence her. No wonder they hadn't heard me blasting the soldier at the door against the wall, they were making so much noises themselves.

Salvia pooled in my mouth and my body got ready to heave up the petty lunch of carrots and cucumbers, when my eyes swept from the violated woman to two other figures in the corner of the room. Another soldier, blatantly younger than the other two, held onto a young child that couldn't be older than four years. The child tried to scream but the young soldier held his hand over the kid's mouth, silencing it thus. The young one struggled and kicked, but the soldier only turned so the child didn't have to witness the rape of its mother. The face of the young man was ghostly pale, his eyes big and haunted.

Loud laughter ripped me out of my observation, and I saw the man that held the woman down spurring on his fellow soldier. With jerky last pumps, the man between her legs pulled back and reached down to grip his own bloody member – _it wasn't his blood, it was hers, hers, hers_ – to move his hand quickly until the splatter of his release landed on the female he had just used so brutally. He grunted lowly and fell back on his heels, his eyes closed in ecstasy. His brethren got to his feet, obviously intending to switch position with his mate. The woman lay limply on the ground, only shaken by silent waves of tears.

There was shuffling behind me and a quit gasp as the girl behind me saw the scene for the first time, but I was already moving. Not even the Gods could stop me from intervening.

"_Avada Kedavra_", I said calmly, and if I hadn't known that I'd spoken the curse myself, I wouldn't have recognized my voice.

My aim was true, and the green light hit its mark in the centre of the chest of the soldier that had moved to go a round with the woman as well. The curse threw him on his back, away from the female. And with that, the whole atmosphere of the room switched.

"_Petrificus totalus_", I hissed, stunning the young soldier that had held onto the child.

With another flick of my wand I disarmed the soldier that had raped the woman and was now pulling the metallic killing device from a holster on his hips. The device sailed through the air and landed with a heavy thud on the ground. Before I could voice another curse, the girl behind me stormed into the room and attacked the man with her bare fists. It was an easy task for him to push her away, making her stumble back, but he hadn't reckoned with the violated woman to jump into an attack as well.

The woman had rolled over to the device the man had lost and cocked it now at the soldier, aiming it without a tremble in her hands. She was still laying on the floor, her skirts pushed up to her hips and the mixture of blood and semen smeared on her bare thighs was visible. But the fierce expression on her face was frightening. I knew what she was about to do, so I rushed towards the still wailing child and pulled it in my arms, burrowing her face – _it was a little girl, a little girl that had to witness her mother's rape_ – into my chest.

A deafening bang sounded, followed by few more until there was only quiet clicking and I flinched with every noise. The little girl stilled in my arms, frozen by fear. I turned my head to look at the scene and saw the woman pushing her skirts down, as the girl who had entered the house with me helped her. Still holding onto the child, I flicked my wand and levitated a comforter and a tablecloth over the two corpses to cover them. The tablecloth was instantly soaked by the blood, but it was still better than the two dead soldiers in plain sight.

I exchanged a quick glance with the girl and at her nod, I release the child and steered it towards her mother. The little one choked out another sob and fell in her mothers' arms, both of them crying heartbreakingly. There were tears pooling at the corner of my eyes as well, and I swallowed heavily to keep the emotions at bay. There was still the third soldier to consider.

I turned around to take care of him. He was still petrified, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He looked so bloody young, he couldn't be much older than Ivan. And here he was, watching his two fellow soldiers assaulting an innocent woman while he held onto her child. I swallowed again, feeling a lump in my throat that made it difficult to breathe.

He was barely more than a child, lost in this violent war just as I was lost. I knew that he had no other choice than to listen to his commands or he would be the one suffering from his brethren, but I couldn't shake off the image of the man finishing off on the woman, grunting in pleasure while she was groaning in pain. It wouldn't be fair to judge him, but life simply wasn't fair. Especially not if you were in a war.

I raised my wand and pointed it at his forehead. Without missing a beat, I looked him one last time in the eyes, sealing is fate. I knew that he didn't deserve this, but forgiveness was just not in my nature.

"_Avada Kedavra_", I muttered gently for the second time this day.

The light in his eyes died down and he went lax. My stomach clenched again, the urge to heave up was getting bigger, but I only swallowed audibly. I didn't bother to close his eyes. With one last look at his body, I turned around to see the three females in a tight embrace. The young woman was looking at me, holding my eyes for a few heartbeats, before she moved.

Untangling herself form the embrace, she pulled the child and the older woman to their feet. The woman had troubles standing, so I rushed to her side, and the girl and I both threw an arm over our shoulder to half carry, half drag her along. The child was holding onto the dirty skirts of her mother.

I followed the pointing hand of the girl and we reached a door that led to a basement. Sending the child down first, I carefully helped the two other women down, as I came in last. I closed the door and locked it but raised my wand to also magically strengthen our hiding place. I needed no explanations to know that we would try to hide away in this basement till the soldiers had all left the village.

"_Protego totalum. Salvio hexia. Repello Muggletum. Protego Maxima_."

I swished my wand over the basement door and tried to secure our hiding space as well as possible. It was probably overcautious to add the charms against magical attacks, but my nerves were wound up too tight and I clearly remembered the last time I was sparse with my protections. With a final flick, I turned around and descended the stairs to the others. It was so dark that I couldn't see a thing.

"_Lumos_", I muttered.

Instantly, the basement was lit up with a gently light and I could see the three Muggles huddled together at the base of the stairs. All three of them were looking up at me, their faces cautious but not scared. The little girl held still onto her mother but had stopped crying. They all looked like hell.

I licked my lips nervously and stopped in the middle of the stairs. I was too agitated to attempt a translation spell. Those were complex magic, that needed both the focus, power and delicate wandwork to work properly. I doubted that I could perform that spell right now. I sighed heavily and looked at the Muggles again.

Raising my hand slowly to avoid scaring them, I pointed at my chest.

"Galina", I said, introducing myself.

The young woman quickly shuffled to her knees, pulling herself taller. Imitating my greeting, she laid her hand on her chest.

"Rebecca", she informed me, and I nodded.

Turning towards the mother, I waited for her to tell me her name. With a small tremble of her lips, she clenched her fists and whispered a word, but I was unable to hear her. Looking at Rebecca for help, she gave pained smile and pointed first at the mother, then at the child.

"Bea", she said first, followed by, "Elisabeth."

Relieved that at least one of them was ready to talk to me, I lowered myself at the steps on top of the stairs, as far away from the women as possible. I didn't want to scare them. Nonetheless, I needed to know that they would be alright with us staying in this basement till it was safe to go back up again.

"Galina", I repeated, pointing at myself again, then pointing at the young woman, "Rebecca", my finger wandered to the mother, "Bea", and lastly to the little child, "Elisabeth".

Rebecca nodded her affirmation, but her face was drawn. There was wariness in her eyes.

"Galina", she started uncertainly, and I jerked my chin as a gesture for her to continue. "_Hexe_."

My mouth was suddenly dry. I didn't need to speak German to know that that word meant. After all the spellcasting in the living room it was clear that the three of them knew that I wasn't just another girl. They had seen me throw curses and had drawn their conclusions. It was no wonder that they accused me of being a witch.

"Yes", I nodded.

Even as I watched the Muggles, they didn't seem to be too shocked about my confession. Wanting to test the waters, I motioned down the stairs.

"May I come down?", I asked in English, though I knew that they couldn't understand me.

Tentatively, I took one step after another, keeping my eyes on the girls, watching them for any discomfort. But only the little girl was still clutching on her mother. Rebecca and Bea didn't seem to feel threatened by me. Reaching the last step, I lowered myself again, this time near enough to touch any of the women if I wished to. This close up, I could see that Bea was covered in dirt and blood and other fluids that I didn't want to think about. Eyeing her carefully, I also saw that she was still bleeding. The wounds needed to be looked after.

"I could clean you", I offered, trying to ease my mind with my own blabbering.

Raising my wand, I pointed at my own grubby clothes.

"_Scourgify_", I muttered, and the dirt disappeared from my garments.

I looked up to catch Bea's eyes, nodding towards her dress. "May I?"

I was sure that she still couldn't understand a word, but she nodded her head frantically, tears starting to glister in her eyes. With a calming smile, I quickly cast the cleaning charm and added another household charm to patch the ripped skirt and bodice. One could clearly see that I had no experience with this kind of charms, but at least the woman was clean and covered again.

"And something else", I muttered and pointed my wand at my own scuffed knees. A nonverbal _Episky_ later, and the superficial wounds were closed.

With another look I assured myself that I was allowed to help with Bea's wounds as well. Looking at Rebecca, I saw her nodding as well. So, with more confident movements, I cast a diagnostic charm over all three of them and started casting. Elisabeth had only a few bruises which I couldn't help. Rebecca had a sprained wrist and a slight concussion. The wrist was mended with another _Episky_, the second injury couldn't be helped. But Bea was something else entirely. Her diagnostics came up, flashing red. Bruises, scrapes and cuts, as well as the damage done by the male who had violated her. I healed the minor wounds rather quickly but had to concentrate on the more delicate injuries. It took me longer than I thought, but Bea was healed at least.

Biting my lip, I thought about something else. With a clenched jaw, I looked at Rebecca and little Elisabeth. With a circular motion of my index finger, I gestured them to turn around.

"We need privacy", I informed them unnecessarily.

Rebecca looked confused at me, so I repeated the gestured, going so far as to push her around by her shoulders. Finally, she understood, and pulled the little girl with her. I set my eyes on Bea again and already saw her watching me with worry in her eyes. I sighed deeply. This wouldn't be easy.

I pointed at her lower belly, then motioned my arms as if I would rock a babe and then shrugged my shoulders, looking at her questioningly.

"Do you want me to cast a contraception charm?"

Bea shook her head in confusion. Closing my eyes, I fought the tears. I didn't want to ask Bea if she wanted me to prevent a pregnancy from a rape. I didn't want to have the memories how she was held down by two men, how her child was held back to watch them and how I killed a young man without a stirring of empathy. I just wanted to go home, to have my father back.

Opening my eyes, I blinked a few times against the tears. With determination on my face, I tried it once more.

"The soldier", I pointed upwards where the living room was, "had sex with you", I pointed at her lower body, fighting the urge to cry in real as I called the violation 'sex', "so you could be pregnant", I pointed at Elisabeth and then held up another finger to signal 'two', followed by the rocking motion I made earlier.

I looked at Bea intensely and slouched in relieve when I saw her understand. Next, I asked her if she wanted that, accompanying my words with an exaggerated nodding or shaking of my head. Instantly, Bea shook her head and added a very distinct movement to indicate that she didn't want a pregnancy.

"Alright", I said and flicked my wand over her lower body.

A contraception charm was more effective if it was cast before the act, but it still held some use after it. I hoped that it was enough, even more so as the man hadn't finished inside of her. With that thought, I felt the bile rising up again and swallowed painfully.

Touching Rebecca's shoulder, I motioned her to turn towards us again and all of us settled into a more comfortable position. In silence, we waited for the fight to end. A few screams could be still heard, and sometimes those popping sounds of the Muggle weapon echoed through the streets, but no one searched the house or looked for the soldiers we had killed.

After a few hours, Bea and Elisabeth dozed off in a fitful sleep, but Rebecca and I decided to stay awake. In all honesty, I didn't think that I would've been able to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man between Bea's thighs, pumping his hips, a grin on his face that was replaced by satisfaction. It was like a never-ending nightmare.

In a spur of a moment decision, I turned towards the sleeping Elisabeth and put my wand gently on her temple. I saw Rebecca from the corner of my eyes, but she made no move to stop me.

"_Obliviate_", I whispered, taking the memories of the rape, then dulling the fear of the attack in general.

There was no need for anyone to remember a night like that in all detail, least of all a small child.

* * *

_**Trigger Warnings**_** include but are not limited to: graphic discription of violence, rape, death/killing. If the mentioning of those topics upset you, please stop reading. Be carful of your mental health.  
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**If you read the chapter: leave a review, I would love to hear what you think about it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N First of all, I hope you guys are all home, safe and sound! These are trying times, which can be hard on each and every one of us. Take care of yourself and stay safe!**

**The current situation is not really helping with my creativity, so I'm not that pleased with this chapter. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. **

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Five – Moving on

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I splashed some more of the water over my shoulder, my eyes staring into nothingness as I was absorbed in my own thoughts. The last few days had been unusually quiet and unexciting. Staying with the three Muggles had been a given. After we had made it through the attack without being discovered, we emerged from the basement at nightfall. We all avoided the living room on the main floor and made our way straight to the first floor, were two bedrooms were. Bea and Elisabeth stayed in one and Rebecca and I had shared the other. The only person that really slept that night was Elisabeth. Although Rebecca and I laid both in our beds respectively – one which I had transfigured out of an old stool – and didn't speak a word, I was sure that she had been awake just as I had been.

The next morning, I had finally attempted the translation spell and at my first try I had succeeded. Being able to communicate with each other made everything far easier and we had started to clean the house before venturing outside. Dealing with the corpses of the three soldiers had fallen into my responsibility, and just thinking back to how ripe they had already smelled after one summer night made me gag. I had no experience with making bodies disappear, so I had transfigured them into a pile of firewood – which was exceptionally difficult as it was still human-to-object transfiguration, even if the humans were dead – and stoked up a fire in the old oven of the living room. I felt a bit like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. I still felt torn about that, but the girls never asked about it and I never told them.

At the end of that day we'd gathered enough courage to leave the house and realized that more of the village was preserved than we'd assumed. Even more so, very few of the villagers had been killed. But that didn't mean that they weren't injured or traumatized. I had a fight with Bea about that. She wanted me to help them all like I'd helped her and she didn't want to understand that I couldn't do that. Though I'd explained to her that my abilities needed to stay a secret, she wanted to help her neighbours so badly. In the end, she relented though she still didn't understand. It took her a whole day before she spoke to me again.

And even though there was no need for it, I stayed for a few more days, enjoying the certainty of a hearty meal and the comfort of a bed. Plus, I could take a bath, heated by a quick warming spell. It was a breather between being attacked in the woods and being followed by Grindelwald's people. But I knew that I needed to continue my journey, so I'd already decided that this would be my last day with the Muggles.

In one of our late-night discussions in bed, Rebecca had told me that I was already far into the German-speaking part of Austro-Hungary. Only a few hours away from this village was Vienna. Hearing that, it was decided that I would head for Vienna, maybe I could find the magical community there and get some information. Also, if I was lucky, I could find a branch of the Gringotts bank, the bank where my father had his vaults. First thing tomorrow morning, I would head for Vienna.

"Galina, supper is ready", Bea yelled up the stairs.

Understanding a language through a translation spell was kind of disconcerting. One couldn't understand the words, but could grasp the meaning behind them. It was as if I was blindly walking through the world, but always knew when I had to step aside to avoid colliding with something.

"Coming!", I hollered back.

Getting out of the tub that stood in the middle of our bedroom, I quickly dried off and wrapped my hair in a messy bun. Throwing on my usual Muggle gear – comfortable pants and a stiff shirt – I jumped down the stairs towards the kitchen. The tiny table was already set for four people and I joined the three girls. Smiling my thanks to Bea, I gladly accepted the bowl of stew. This was the last evening I would spend with them and I would enjoy it.

* * *

I got off the trailer and Bea's friend started his tractor again before we could exchange any words. He would continue his way to one of the market places in Vienna while I would try to find the Wizarding community. Waving after him, I turned towards what I assumed the direction of the centre of the city and started to walk. Hiking my knapsack higher, I waved through the city, keeping my senses open for any magical spark. But that didn't stop me from gawking at the buildings and the grandness of everything. Of course, I had been in bigger cities before, but only ever to specific locations. We'd never walked there, so I'd never experienced a city up close. It was exciting.

Simply following the flow of other people, I finally landed in front of a building that I recognized easily from books and photographs. It was the parliament, located by the _Ringstraße_, the street that circled the historical centre of Vienna. If the Viennese wizards were anything like the magical folk elsewhere, I guessed that they had their own district not too far from the heart of the city.

I grinned and marvelled at the building, before I turned to continue my walk, following the street to the two twin museums and the _Heldenplatz_. Deciding to relax for a time, I strolled through a park nearby and claimed a park bench. I watched the people hurrying through the park, most of them women and most of them with a worried face. The war had left its mark on Vienna as well and it wasn't even over yet. Who knew how much worse it would get.

At the edges of my consciousness, I finally felt a familiar tug of a strange magical signature. Usually, we could ignore the feeling of our fellow wizards and witches well enough, but I was seeking out the sensation. Getting to my feet, I followed the thug and found myself heading for a man, clothed in an expensive suit. He crossed the park at a smart pace and I pulled the cap, that I had put on my head once more to aid me with my alter ego as Miloš, lower down my face. Keeping my eyes on him, I followed him at a safe distance, hoping that he would head for the magical district and not for his home or work or something else.

I saw him entering an inner court of an especially big building and peered around the corner to watch him offer his wand to an elderly lady that sat on a garden chair next to an old and heavy wooden door, enjoying the few sunrays that reached her. She examined the wand only with her eyes before she nodded slowly, and the man walked through the door. When the door opened, it wasn't the interior of an apartment that I could see glimpses of, but a busy street, filled with people wearing the familiar wizarding robes.

For once, it seemed that luck was on my side and I had actually found some Wizarding street. Peaking over my shoulder, I decided to push my luck even further and also entered the inner court, walking up to the lady with false confidence. As I got closer, the lady rose her head and looked at me with foggy eyes that were a clear evidence of blindness. I almost faltered in my step, but if there was one thing that my father had thought me, then that there was nothing that magic couldn't do. Even if she was blind to the physical world didn't mean that she couldn't very well see the magical world no more.

I stopped in front of her and brandished my old wand, holding it out in front of her and copying the movements from the man earlier. The lady looked at the wand, turning her head one way, then another, as if she was searching for the right angle. I got nervous when she took her time, examining my wand longer than I'd anticipated. Finally, she shook her head and waved her head dismissively.

I gaped at her.

"What?", I asked, uncaring that the translation charm was no longer active and she probably couldn't understand me. "Why am I not allowed in?"

The lady rose her head up to me again, her old neck creaking with the movement.

"Not your wand", she said in broken English.

"It is", I said slowly.

She only shook her head again and turned away, a clear sign that I was dismissed. Opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of the water, I racked my brain about her statement. I really needed to go to the Wizarding district, I could gather valuable information there. I couldn't just walk away. So, what did she mean that this wasn't my wand? It had been my wand since I was nine years old, since my father had decided that waiting for my enrolment was taking too long and he wanted me to find my wand. It had been a faithful companion, working even through the current developments with Grindelwald and the supposed Elder Wand.

My thoughts came to a screeching halt and I clenched my teeth. Of course, even this problem was caused by the wand that had turned my whole life around. No matter if I wanted the wand or not, it seemed that the old hag knew that I had more than one wand that was loyal to me.

With an annoyed huff, I pulled the Elder Wand from my hip holster and presented it to the old woman. Once more, she turned towards me and examined the magical object, this time taking only a few seconds before she nodded her head. With another snort, I pocketed it again and opened the door, walking through it before the hag-like witch decided to change her mind.

The door closed behind me and disappeared but I continued to stand in the middle of the street where I had moved through. I had been to Wizarding London when I was a child and I remembered how awed I've been, but this looked so differently. The buildings were in the same style as the Muggles ones that I had seen in Vienna. Owls and other mail-animals were sailing through the air and scurrying across the ground to deliver their messages. Witches and wizards walked through the streets, some of them hurrying, some of them strolling in a relaxed fashion. The shop windows displayed the recent magical devices, the latest books and the newest fashionable robes. I stared with my mouth open in wonder and I supposed that I looked like a tourist, but I didn't care. Not only was this incredibly exciting, it was also the first time that I felt great amounts of magic around me again. I felt like I was coming home.

An annoyed shout behind me made me whirl around and then jump out of the way of a carriage that was pulled by creatures that I've never seen before in real life. They looked like horses, but were skeletal thin, their skin as dark as the night-sky. I had heard of them before. Thestrals. One could only see them if they had seen death as well. I took another step to the sidewalk as I coughed to get hold of the lump that had formed in my throat. No wonder that I could see them now. I had seen more than enough death in the last few days to last me a lifetime.

Pushing the negative thoughts from my mind, I followed the course of the road and peeked into the store windows curiously. Located at one street corner was a little stall, that sold newspapers. Instantly, I walked towards it, pulling my cap a bit lower on my face to hide my identity.

"Do you have The Daily Prophet?", I asked the salesman, hoping that he would speak English.

As I was heading towards the British Isles, I felt it more important to check their news than the ones of my home. Besides, asking for a British paper was less suspicious than asking for a Rumanian one, even more so if Grindelwald's men were close by.

"Of course", he said with a harsh German accent.

He gave me the paper and I paid the price, nodding my thanks, but hiding my face still under the cap. There was no need to leave an impression.

With the paper under my arm, I walked a few more minutes aimlessly, before I found a café that looked nice enough. I got seated by a polite waiter, being impolite in return when I ignored his stares when I didn't remove my cap. After browsing the menu, I decided and placed my order. The moment the waiter left my table, I flicked the newspaper open and skimmed the headlines.

It felt like ages the last time I had read a newspaper, though it had barely been a week. Nonetheless, so much had changed the past few days. I was almost antsy with curiosity. Was there something about Grindelwald in the papers? Had they written about the attack at our village and the death of my father? He had been a well-known man. But the headlines were not very expressive to begin with.

The waiter came back with my order. A _Melange_ – a Viennese version of a coffee with whipped cream – and a simple breakfast of buns, butter and marmalade. I said my thanks and started to butter one of the buns, the newspaper flapped open on my lap so I could continue my reading. I saw that some of the reports were still about the same old and dull things. The newest Quidditch game and how it ended, a scandal about a scion to some important name had been caught fooling around with an unknown wizard and some unimportant snippets that every paper seemed to contain.

As I browsed through the pages, I froze when I saw my face staring right back at me from the newspaper. It was a shot of me during one of the festivities at Durmstrang. I was covered in an elegant gown, sparkling even in the black and white photograph. I looked a bit younger, but not too much, and people comparing the picture with my current looks wouldn't need to think too hard to realize that I was the very same girl.

'_Still missing: The heiress to the House of Gregorovic'_ was the title to it. Under the caption was a short description that I was still unaccounted for and the contact information of a person that was commissioned with my case. It could be read as a follow-up article, as if this wasn't the first one about me. But curiously, I didn't know the man that was listed as the contact person and there were no signs of any connection with the Aurors. Paranoid as I was, I promptly assumed that this was a ploy from Grindelwald to gather information about my person. Any wizard or witch that saw me would contact that man, who would – if he really was Grindelwald's – contact the dark wizard to let him know about my whereabouts.

"Bloody hell", I whispered, glancing up to check if I'd already gathered unwanted attention.

Thankfully, the only other guests were some business men that were in deep discussion. I lowered my eyes back to the newspaper and skimmed through the pages with the hope to find another article about me, but there was nothing more. That one had been the only one about me and I had no idea if I should feel grateful that there wasn't a man-hunt for me, or if I should feel hurt that neither the few distant friends nor the family branch of my mother was trying to find me.

Taking another sip of my coffee, I turned back towards the beginning of the newspaper, wanting to read it properly, not only skimming it for news about my person. On the second to last pages, my eyes were caught one something rather interesting. It was a poll with some wizards and witches, regarding the Muggle war and the current wizarding riots – speak, the attacks from Grindelwald in Europe. Shockingly, all of them thought the Muggle war pretty unimportant, even more for wizarding folks. I couldn't believe some of the statements were really true and I was even more astonished that The Daily Prophet had published those words.

.

_'__Of course, it's awful that all those people are dying, but it's not really our responsibility to help them. They are destroying themselves and the Statue [editor's note: of Secrecy] prevents us from helping. So, really, it's out of the question.' _

_Tina Brower, from Liverpool_

_._

_'__There's no need for us to intervene. The media is exaggerating, like always, the Muggle war is really not that bad.'_

_Edwin Taylor, from Aberdeen_

_._

_'__It's truly terrible, but we should focus what is without a doubt more important: the protection of the Wizarding community and all of its citizen. This must be our priority.'_

_Allegra Fawley, from London_

_._

My mouth was hanging open in shock. I couldn't believe what I was reading.

Not only were they grossly underestimating the damaging effect the Muggle war had on the magical population, but they were also blind and ignorant to the sufferings of the Muggles. The media didn't exaggerate, quite the contrary. If we only concentrated on us and ignored all the Muggles in need, it would end awful for us as well. We were not two separated communities that never interacted with one another. There was economic exchange between Muggles and magical folk, as well as some intellectual mutual learning. But what shocked me most was one statement on Grindelwald.

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_'__I don't think that was he [editor's note: Grindelwald] does is too extreme. Muggles and their way of living are threatening us and it's time for a counter-attack. To preserve the magical world, we have to contain the Muggle one.'_

_Hamish Goyle, from Norwich_

_._

I paused, staring at the newspaper without seeing it. Ever since I was a little girl, I knew that there were people who were at best ignorant and at worst hateful towards the Muggle word. That was no secret. In Durmstrang there were some groups that viewed Muggles and Muggle-borns as lesser and wanted them separated from the wizarding world. My parents had raised me trying to teach me open-mindedness and tolerance, right along with a good compass of ethics and a sense of justice. For me, it had always been a given fact, that Muggles were no lesser beings. They just handled their lives differently. But I'd also always known about blood purists.

So, really, reading the statement from Mr Goyle shouldn't be a surprise – I remembered him from my mother's teachings about the Sacred Twenty-Eight – but I was upset nonetheless. First of all, did Goyle dismiss that Grindelwald was dangerous, to all of us, not only Muggles, but magical folk alike. Secondly, was it just plain evil to disregard other living beings so carelessly. And thirdly was I worried about myself.

What should I do when I reached London like my father had planned? The Ministry there was mostly controlled by the old pureblood families. Did they all share the thoughts of Goyle? Would they refuse my plea for help, because they secretly supported Grindelwald? Or worse, would they hand me over to the dark wizard?

I folded the newspaper carefully and put it on the table, leaning back in my chair. Reaching for my mug, I simply held it in my hands to warm them, without taking a sip. This was bad news and I had to think about this. Being on the run meant that every decision I made could end up getting me killed.

With new determination, I took the last sip from my now lukewarm _Melange_ and gathered my things to get going, when I overheard something that made me pause in my movements.

"… the business trip to Paris", complained a male voice in English next to me, "and they moved it forward to in a few hours at short notice."

Covering my peeking as rummaging through my handbag, I took a glimpse at the wizard and saw him sitting at a table next to me with what assumed to be a colleague. Both of them were dressed in fine robes, briefcases standing on the ground next to their feet. It seemed that they were having breakfast together.

"They cleared a Portkey, which is a feat in itself, but I'd hoped to doge this trip, working things out via owl. But now I even have to go earlier than expected. I really hate to work with the Frenchmen, they're always so picky."

I continued to eavesdrop, while my mind was racing. This could be an opportunity to journey to France faster and with less dangers than by Muggle means or by foot. The Portkey would probably be monitored and they would know of the wizard had travelled with another person, which would raise suspicion if he was planned to start the journey on his own. Still, in a quick assessment, the advantages seemed to outweighed the disadvantages. But I needed more information to make an educated decision.

Listening for almost half an hour, the two wizards finally finished their breakfast and shook their hands in farewell. When the one that would leave for the business trip exited the café, I got to my feet as well and followed him outside. Trying to stay at an inconspicuous distance, I prayed to all the Gods that he wouldn't disapparated. Fortunately, he only walked for five minutes before he reached an impressive house in which he disappeared. I had no idea if this was his house or if this was where he worked. But it didn't matter.

Not far from the building, with a good view at the front door of the house, I lowered myself on a bench on the street corner that had seen better days. A quick tap of my wand, and I was charmed with a _Notice-Me-Not_ charm, my eyes locked on the door. I readied myself for a few boring hours of sitting around, with nothing available to occupy my mind. At least I could try to re-evaluate my plan to make my way to London to seek help there. There was much to think about.

* * *

My muscles were stiff from sitting down so long and my butt felt like it was getting numb, when the door to the house finally opened again. The whole day had gone by and I'd just been sitting outside, enjoying the good weather in the beginning. After a few hours of hot sunshine, I felt much more like cursing it. I was sweating, I was hungry and sitting around with nothing to occupy my mind except my own thoughts made me restless.

So, when the door finally opened up again, I felt like jumping to my feet and rushing towards the man, simply because I was so thankful that something was happening. But I stayed on the bench and watched as the wizard straightened his robe before he marched off, heading towards me. Quickly, I reinforced the _Notice-Me-Not_.

The wizard came closer and closer and I got more nervous with every step the man took. I needed him to cooperate, so I could take the Portkey with him that would whisk us away to Paris. This was just too good of an opportunity to miss. This could help me save days if not even weeks of travelling. I just had to convince the wizard that I was his unplanned guest. And my guess was that I couldn't just persuade him with a few nice words.

When the wizard was only a few steps away from me, I brandished my wand and pointed it at him through the folds of my baggy trousers. My hand shook and there was a slight tremble in my voice.

"_Imperius!"_

The curse made the man only stumble before he started to turn sluggishly towards me, his face a mixture between confusion and anger. It was no wonder that the curse hadn't worked, with me being so insecure about it. I didn't want to force my will on anyone but this was the safest option for me to take the Portkey. I simply couldn't let that chance go. The desperation was rising up in me and I clenched my jaw in anxiety. I needed this to work!

My despair obviously gave me the power and the focus to complete the curse, as the wizards stumbled another time, now fully turned towards me, and then froze with a limp expression. I puffed out a heavy sigh when I realized that I had successfully imperius'ed him. Glad that I could attempt to join his Portkey travels, I also felt bad that I was actually able to perform a real _Imperius_ curse. I felt like it said a great deal about my personality.

Cancelling the Notice-Me-Nto, slinging the knapsack over my shoulder and coming to my feet, I looked the middle-aged wizard in his face, studying his empty expression. I had no idea how to go about this. How did I make him do the things I wanted? How did I get any information form him? Did I simply ask or was there some sort of casting and wand-waving involved?

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "What is your name?"

"Gustav", came the monotone answer.

"Hello Gustav", I coughed again. "My name is Galina. Were you on your way to the Portkey?"

He nodded. I stared. And cleared my voice. Again. Seldomly had I felt more out of control than right now.

"Well, I want you to take me there. I also want you to take me with you on your business trip. I don't care what you have to tell others to make it look as little suspicious as possible, but do whatever you can to help me reach France."

"I will take you to the Portkey. I will take you along my business trip. I will help you reach France", he said expressionlessly.

Gustave nodded in affirmation as if to strengthen his resolve and slowly regained a healthy life back in his eyes. It took him a few heartbeats before he looked normal again, a charismatic glimmer in his eyes that made him much more likable and attractive to me. It seemed that the _Imperius _curse was working on its own, relaying my wishes to my victim. I probably needed to concentrate very hard on the commands, but otherwise the curse would take care that my wishes were met. Gladly, it didn't seem to leave the victim in a state of half-vegetable, as opposed to his easy-going manner he was displaying now.

"Galina!", I he said, as if he'd just notice me. "Good of you to be punctual. Are you ready for the trip?"

I was slightly taken aback by his greeting, that was better meant for old friends. But I managed a nod and took his offered arm and smile up to him. If his subconsciousness thought that being friends was the way to get on me the Portkey- travel, then I'd be alright with that.

"Well, I should think so", I offered. "Was there something special I needed to prepare?"

Gustav faltered for a split-second before another charming smile broke out on his face and he shook his head. It was rather eerie to see the _Imperius_ work on its victim, how it shaped their behaviour. At the corner of my awareness, I felt the current tug on my magic as the curse syphoned power from me.

"No, of course not! You're here, that's the most important thing. Everything you forgot can be bought in Paris."

He snatched my cap from my head, making my plait unfold from under it. I gasped in surprise, but he already threw his arm over my shoulders and pulled me at his side, my cap still clutched in his hand. We started to continue the way he had been headed before he'd been stopped by me. I froze at the sudden contact, startled about his familiarity. Even though my parents had been rather liberal, I had been raised by the pureblood standards, which meant much correctness and stiffness around each other and pretty little casual touching.

After the first few stumbled steps, I gathered myself and leaned into his side, trying to appear relaxed, even if I felt oddly naked without my cap. Others needed to think that we were friends so no one would question me travelling with him. Arranging my face in a carefree expression, I looked up at him and started to small-talk. He instantly jumped to answer my questions, being a pleasant conversationist all along. I learned about his sisters and his parents, how he was still unmarried and what his duties regarding his family business – for which he had to travel to Paris – were. All in all, he was a nice fellow. Which made me feel incredibly guilty for cursing him.

With him entertaining me, I didn't even realize when we reached the middle of the city again, heading for a big building in the typical architecture, that I already recognized for Vienna. The plate on the outside of the entrance door announced it to be the branch of a travelling agency. Greeting the porter with a friendly nod, Gustav walked through the foyer that was as grand as the building had looked from the outside. The ground was made of white marble, and huge chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. There was only one other person in the foyer and it was a young lady that sat at the reception. Purposefully, we walked past her, ascending the broad staircase, that circled up in a curve to the first floor. I tried to keep my gawking at a minimum, but the building was incredibly beautiful. One could clearly see the wealth.

Letting Gustav steered me towards a dark wooden door at the first floor, I waited as he knocked sharply once before entering. Inside was something like an office, just as decadently furnished as the foyer. It looked a bit warmer, as it had a large Persian carpet covering a bit of the cold marble floor, but it was still impressive with the wooden shelves filled with large editions of old books which complimented the desk in its colour. The ceiling of the room as adorned with delicate wooden carvings, but I couldn't make out a pattern, as I tried not to stare.

"_Willkommen Gustav!_", boomed the male, sitting behind the desk.

"Thank you", my companion answered, switching in English so I could understand the conversation. "I have an appointed Portkey for Paris."

"Ah, yes", the other replied, picking up the need to speak English quickly.

He leaned to the side and rummages through his desk drawers, getting an old and worn shoe from it. Putting it on top of it, he rattled down a list of information about safe Portkey-travel, some information about the Paris government, as well as the information about the journey back. During his little monologue, Gustav and I had made our way to the desk, Gustav's hand sitting on my lower back.

"… you just have to touch the item", the man finished his speech.

Both of us reached forward, but with a gasp and a quick lunge, the man in the office snatched the shoe from the table.

"Gustav, dear friend, only you had been listed as passenger!"

The wizard next to me pulled me a bit closer to him, making the movement look like it as more than just that, giving it more meaning.

"You see, I really hoped that I could bring my friend with me. You know how my mother can be sometimes", he winked at the office wizard, "she always thinks that all my female friends could be a good wife for me. But you know just as well as I do, that you just need something frivolous from time to time."

The other wizard sputtered at that statement and I froze up. So, we weren't travelling as friends but lovers. It made more sense actually. People were less inclined to ask troubling questions about me, if they thought that I was his mistress. They would feel too awkward to ask. Pushing my pride aside, I leaned closer to Gustav and gave the other wizard a little knowing smirk, making him blush.

"But- but", he stuttered, eyeing me with shock that turned to bafflement when he noticed my unusual outfit, "I need her passport! She needs to get a permission beforehand!"

Gustave stiffened next to me, before he smiled charmingly again. "Please, don't make this too hard on us. We've got only two minutes left and I looked so forward to mix business with please. And in Paris of all cities, just imagine that!"

The other wizard turned beet-red, obviously doing what Gustav had asked him to do: imagining _it_. Sadly, it didn't stop him from indignantly shaking his head, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. I had no idea if he was shocked because I wanted to travel without showing my passport or because Gustav was discussing our allegedly affair so openly.

My companion used the speechlessness to continue. "And don't you want to save my friend the trouble to have other gossip about her? We just want to have a good time!"

The two wizards stared at each other in silence and I tried to look as unassuming as possible, as I snuggled up at Gustav's side. With a quick glance at his watch, I saw that our time was running out. I guessed that Gustav came to the same conclusion when he reached inside his expensive suite jacket and pulled a few purple bank notes from it, that looked strange to me, laying them down on the desk before us. Judging from the growing big eyes from the other wizard, I assumed that it was quite a hefty sum.

The officer wizard still hesitated. "But… what if – what if someone finds it out? I could lose my job…."

Gustave added another of those purple notes with a dismissive flick of his hand and then pulled the Portkey towards us. The other wizard still stared at the little slips of paper money, seemingly ensnared by it and not caring about us anymore. He didn't even flinch when I put my finger on the old shoe. His whole focus was entirely on the money.

With another look, I saw the seconds tick away, and punctual as always did I feel a hook behind my navel that was yanking at me and I was magically surging through space. Next to me, Gustav was jolted by the harsh magical travel, but his face was lack again. Through the jostling and the rushing of the wind around us, did I concentrate on the steady stream of magical demand that tugged on me, thinking about my command to Gustav.

_I need to get to Paris safely. I want Gustav to take me to his hotel room. I need him to help me. I need to get to Paris safely. I need Gustav to get me to his hotel room. I need to get to Paris safely. He needs to help me._

Another jostle of the Portkey made me bump into Gustav, who had a more alert expression again. Obviously, he was mentally occupied with the task to get me in his hotel room. He ought find a solution rather quickly, as I already felt the Portkey changing its magical tune, getting ready for the landing. Whatever Paris held for me, at least I was closer to my destination.

* * *

**Please leave a review, I love those!**


	6. Chapter 6

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Six – A little Breather

* * *

Staring at the high ceiling with wide eyes, I didn't care that I looked like I tried to catch flies with my open mouth. I was just too impressed with the suite. Yes, the generous building in Vienna had been beautiful to look at, but the room I was currently standing in was oozing the grandeur and flamboyance of the past century.

Still standing in the entry area, I gawked without shame, not caring that Gustav was stuck behind me, waiting patiently to be able to enter the main area of the suite. But I just had to take a few seconds to take everything in.

The floor was made out of shiny, dark marble, that looked like the surface of a lake during midnight. Plush seating accommodations were located in the middle of the main room, made out of dark wood that was barely lighter than the floor. A rich piano was facing the seating area near the windows. The dark accents of the room were lightened by the ecru silk wallpaper, that was adorned with the most delicate paintings and embroidery, that concluded in gold-plated stucco at the ceiling. The chandelier glittered and reflected the light of the evening sun that shone through the huge windows, casting the whole sitting room in a magical atmosphere.

It was utterly opulent, luxurious and sumptuous, and I had never seen something like that. I felt out of place in my baggy trousers and battered knapsack.

"So, this is our suite?", I asked Gustav, finally moving out of the way so he could pass by me.

"Of course", he answered offhandedly, not even looking at his surroundings. "This has been my suite for years now. Whenever I visit Paris, I stay here."

"Of course", I parroted tonelessly, eyeing him warily.

Just how much money had his family? Watching him disappear in one of the doors at the opposite side of the piano, I hoped that his family wasn't too important. It would be my luck if I imperius'ed someone from an influential family that would be after my head then. It wouldn't be any less ethical to use this curse on someone who hadn't the financial resources to send an assassin after me, but I felt wary nonetheless.

"Gustav", I yelled across the room, still frozen in the entry area, "what did you say was your last name again?"

"Piëch!", came the muffled reply.

Frowning, I tried to come up with any relation to that name, but none came to mind. He wasn't known in the Wizarding world, I would have heard of him, even if I had stayed rather secluded in Rumania the last few years. So, it seemed that he had made a name in the Muggle world, if he could afford a suite in a hotel like this.

Walking slowly into the room, I ghosted my fingers of the backrest of the lavish armchair, enjoying the smooth feeling of the silk and the fluffy one of the velvet. I continued through the room, stopped at the piano to look at of the big window that stretched at one side of the room. We had a rather lovely view of the Eiffel tower. I knew that most Frenchmen disliked the building, but I found it fetching. It was bold and unique, clearly different from the rest of Paris. It was special.

Some noises made me step curiously towards the open door Gustav had disappeared through earlier and I leaned into the doorway, looking around to see Gustav struggling to hang his suits. I had to smirk at that and waved my hand, sending the suit first to hang from the coat hanger, then to send it into the wardrobe. Gustav jerked in surprise, but gave me a boyish grin when he saw it was just me. I smiled in return.

"I have to prepare some business meetings", he informed me, "you can make yourself comfortably. Through the other door is the bathroom, maybe you want to freshen up after the Portkey."

Both of us knew that it wasn't necessary, but I still nodded and trotted back to the other door, opening it, only to freeze there like I had when I'd first entered the apartment. The bathroom was almost as big as the living room. A huge bathtub stood freely in the room, spacious enough to have room for two people taking a bath at once. Although Gustav had made all those rather explicit comments about our relationship, I was sure that this tub would only ever see one of us at a time. A head-high mirror covered almost all of the wall on the side of the bathroom, while the other wall showed the nearby park through a sized window. More marble but in a fair colour was complimented with silver accents from the faucets. A silver shelf held numerous bottles and jars, probably filled with soap, bodywash, shampoo and lotion. It was lovely and I simply couldn't resist.

Without hesitation, I walked balk to Gustave and surprised him once more in his preparations for his meetings. He only lifted an eyebrow in inquiry to my presence.

"I'll occupy the bathroom for the next couple of hours. I don't want to be disturbed unless there is an emergency", I said with authority.

I was getting rather good in spotting the little tells that showed that there was an _Imperius _at work: the split-second of emptiness in Gustav's eyes, the blank expression that was replaced by instant compliance, the lack of enquiry and the slight tug at my magic to enforce my demand.

"I won't disturb you unless there is an emergency", the wizard repeated reliably and gave me a charming smile when the haze left his eyes.

Walking back to the washing room with a skip in my step, it only took my a few moments to lock the door and slip out of my clothing. A couple of moments later, the bathtub was filled with scented and bubbly water, the heat already relaxing my stiff muscles as I leaned back in the tub.

Soaping up a washcloth, I ran it over my body, using the time not only to clear my skin of any muck, but also taking stock of my injuries. I had quite a few bruises on my shins, but nothing too worrisome. My back still ached a bit from the attack of the hag, but the discolouration had already lessened to a greenish-yellow, that was barely visible. The slashes from the hag on my arms, when I'd tried to keep her from scratching up my face, were already scarred over just like the bite on the back of my neck. It was a network of bright and jagged lines, that stood out slightly. Running my hands over them, I could clearly feel them, but they weren't too obvious. My most distinct 'injuries' were the runes on my fingers that I had cut myself. They were dark from the ashes and soil and one could clearly see them for what they were. I sighed. Magical folk would recognize them, which meant that I should probably hide them. Blood magic and rune magic was still scowled upon.

Dumping the cloth on the bathroom floor, I held my hand out to _accio_ my wand nonverbally. Taking care of everything – hair-removal spells, manicure and pedicure charms, deep cleansing charms for the skin and hair and many more – took me long enough for my fingers to shrivel up like an old prune. Finally, I was done and got out of the bathtub, moving to grab for a towel when I saw my reflexion in the huge mirror. It made me pause. Waving my wand lazily over my form to dry myself with magical means, I examined my naked body critically.

At large, I looked the same. Rather petite frame, with slim limbs, small breasts, toned muscles that were evidence of the physical training I'd received. My dark brown hair reached my waist in messy waves, and the only jewellery that adorned my body was the signet ring form my father on my thumb. The only difference in addition to the tattooed runes I could spot were my eyes. Though they were still the same grey-blueish colour, the look was different. It was haunted and frightened, the dark circles underneath my eyes only enforcing the almost harrowed expression of them. It seemed like my eyes were one proof of the awful things I had already lived through. The runes on my fingers and my changing attitude the other ones. I was not happy with was I was seeing.

"_Accio_ robe", I murmured, forcing my gaze from my reflection.

Tying the waistband securely, I made my way out of the bathroom and looked for Gustav. He was seated in the huge living room, occupying a chair with files and other paperwork surrounding him. He gifted me with an easy smile when he saw me walking towards him, clearing a space on the settee, so I could take a seat next to him.

"I thought you would take your time in the bathroom?", he asked, while he gathered the rest of the files.

His comment made me snort unladylike. I had been in the bathroom for more than two hours, that was more than enough time to take a bath several times over. It should have also been enough time for me to choose an outfit that would be appropriate for company, but as Gustav hadn't shown any interest in me except for the display to get me on board the Portkey, I felt rather safe and comfortable around him only wearing a bathing gown.

"It was more than enough time", I assured him. "Are you still preparing for your business meeting tomorrow morning?"

He hummed his agreement. "I want to convince other investors to buy into the Muggle stock market."

This made me curious. "Any shares in particular?"

"Yes, of course! My family has heavily invested in the automobile industry and the profit it quite large, even considering the Muggle war. My father has more long-time plans that involve this new invention of the Muggles."

"Fascinating", I said, meaning it.

It was not unheard that some Wizarding families reached out into the Muggle world to do business, but they were usually shy about it. Gustav on the other hand was explaining in a lively fashion how his father had started this particular business and how they wanted to expand.

"What will you do during my meeting tomorrow?" he asked when he finished his explanation.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I thought about going to a Gringotts branch. There is some business I should take care of. Do you know where one is?"

"You can just take the Floo from the hotel, it won't be a problem. If you like, we can leave the apartment together tomorrow morning and I accompany you, before my meeting starts."

Eyeing him carefully when I felt another tug on my magic, I suddenly understood. The _Imperius _was still pushing him to help me. He wasn't asking because he was such a nice guy – though I didn't doubt for a moment that he was a gentleman – but he was asking because my curse still forced him to help me. Clenching my jaw, I tried to ignore the pang of guilt and calmed myself with the knowledge that I could lift the curse in a few hours. Tomorrow evening was his return-Portkey scheduled, afterwards I would relieve him of my curse. Until then, I would have to use him, no matter how I felt about it or how unethical it was.

"Yes, that would be nice", I gave him an answer for his proposal.

* * *

With a tense smile and a nod, I stood up to leave the room. No matter how hard I tried to silence the voice in my head that was telling me that I was doing something awful, I wasn't successful. Staying in his company was only making things worse.

Taking the first deep breath since what felt like hours, I got in line in front for the counter where the goblins received their customers. I rolled my shoulders to lose the tension that I had gotten from spending the night on the chesterfield, leaving the bed to Gustav. He'd actually tried to convince me to take the bed, but a little tug on that damned curse and he'd easily relented. I was thankful that Gustav was on his way now. Ever since my realisation yesterday night was I feeling like an evil witch from the Muggle child stories. I was forcing my will upon him. It didn't matter that I didn't demand atrocious deeds from him, just taking his free will was awful enough.

Fortunately, the day was filled with errands that I had to handle, always careful to not be recognized by anyone. The most nervous had I been when I had sent a priority owl to the British Ministry with an official request for asylum. I had taken me a long time and much worries if I really wanted to write the letter or not, but I had finally decided that I would do so. It was a risk – a great one at that – but if they recognized my request, there was a chance that I would be in safety in a fraction of the time that it needed me to physically go to the ministry.

All of the errands had distracted me enough from my moral dilemma with Gustav. We would see each other again this evening before he would journey back to Austria, then he would be free of me at last. I was actually considering writing him an apology letter, which would be the worst idea ever. Gustav would then have proof of my casting of an Unforgivable Curse, a confession in form of a letter. More so, there would be evidence of him helping me – no matter if forced or freely – which would endanger him to Grindelwald's men. And he was already in danger because of me. Thinking about all of this made the steel-band around my chest appear once more and I felt constricted with all of my emotions. Guilt, fear, anger, confusion and desperation.

"Next", the nasally voice of the goblin shook me out of my rumination.

Quickly, I strode up to the high counter with the free goblin, unhappy with the small distance between the customers. If I wasn't careful, others could overhear everything that would happen during the transaction. Unfortunately, I couldn't change that now, I could only hope that the goblin wouldn't expose me.

"Request?", the sharp-toothed gobbling drawled without looking up from his writing.

"A matter of vault transfer and withdrawal."

"Identification."

I laid my right hand on his counter, blocking his writing thus. My signet ring was in plain view, the crest of the Gregorovic family easily discernible. It was bold of me to show this little spectacle of disrespect by interrupting the goblin, but making business with them was never easy, and what goes around, comes around. The goblin would set the tone of our affair, I would simply follow.

He stiffened and then looked up at me, his eyes narrowed. He clearly recognized me and judging from the tiny display of emotion, I guessed that he also knew who was after me. Holding my breath, I waited for his reaction.

"I'm assuming the lady wants all the vaults listed under her name for official recognition?"

I exhaled with feeling.

"Yes."

"Then we need blood verification. The charges are the usual."

Only nodding my acceptance, I didn't even flinch when he swiftly conjured a piece of parchment and a huge pin, poking me in my index finger to draw some blood. One drop of it landed on the parchment and I knew that my genealogy was listed following, sporting the House of Dulo as my first ancestors. With another swish of his hand, the parchment and pin disappeared, the face of the goblin sporting a calculating expression.

"The vaults are officially yours now. Are we moving forward to the withdrawal now?"

"Not yet", I shook my head, "can you make the typical announcement of the acquisition of the vaults to my person? Of course, only if the information about my location would be handled sensitively."

"If that is was the lady wishes", the goblin answered, almost able to hold his sneer in.

Nodding again, I continued. "Also, I'd like that the access to my vaults is only given if I am able to produce evidence of my status as materfamilias" – I wiggled my thumb with the signet ring – "and blood verification."

With another demonstration of wandless magic, the goblin took note of the desired changes regarding my vaults. Thus, did I not only keep distant family members at bay, that tried to take hold of my vaults if they hastily decided that I surely must be dead and wanted to take power over my inheritance. But also was it a sing of life for anyone who was looking for me. Grindelwald already knew that I was still alive, his forces were after me. But maybe some of my friends or some of my family members wanted to help me. Or even just a strange good Samaritan, that wanted to put one over Grindelwald. I didn't care. The announcement wouldn't hurt me but could possibly help. And the raised security measures would also have no bad consequences for me. No imposter could access my vault and there was no way in hell that I would let go of my father's signet ring.

"Noted", the goblin informed me.

"On to the withdrawal then", I waited for the goblin to nod, before I continued, carefully aware of the other customers around me. "Are the conditions for a money pouch still the same?"

"Yes", came the drawled answer.

This meant that the purses were still equipped with a featherlight and an extension charm, ensuring that you could take almost as many Galleons as you wanted without any thoughts needed for space or weight. Considering that I still had many – and expensive – errands to run, I decided on a sum, unsure how I should voice it without the customer next to me overhearing me demanding an astronomical amount of Galleons. Up until now, I felt like we had done a great job of keeping my personality undetected.

"Then I'd like a pouch. I want one tenth of my small personal vault transferred to that pouch, half of it in small coins."

Not batting an eye, the handler snapped his fingers and a purse appeared on the counter. He stopped me when I wanted to reach for it. It took me a few seconds to realize that I needed to wait a few more moments for the purse to magically fill with that large amount of money.

"When may the announcement of the vaults' handover be made?" the goblin asked, obviously making it look like we were still discussion business and not as if I was waiting for a purse that took forever to be filled because it held so many Galleons.

"What is the usual timeline?"

"The next workday, in the morning hours."

"I think it would be best to stick to that then", I said.

"Naturally", the goblin consented, making another note on his parchment.

Then, he finally slid the money pouch over the counter to me. Tying to appear calm and not if I was holding a fortune in my hand, I fixed the pouch inside my cloak close to my chest, where I could feel if someone was trying to relieve me of it.

"Other requests?" I was asked.

I shook my head in negation.

"Thank you for the good business", I concluded, already moving to get out of the bank.

"The lady?", the goblin called me back before I'd fully turned around to leave Gringotts. Catching my gaze, he bared his teeth. "I wish the best of luck."

I nodded in thanks and left the bank quickly, feeling unsettled by the handler. I had no idea if his wish was a macabre joke at my expense or if he really hoped that I could avoid Grindelwald's clutches. Knowing the goblins, it was probably the former.

* * *

With almost a third of my withdrawal gone, I apparated back to the suite, aiming for the living room. I knew that Gustav's meetings would last to supper, if one of those meetings was not even a business dinner in itself. So, I made myself comfortable on the cool marble ground and unpacked the numerous shopping bags and parcels. I hadn't bought too much, but I'd bought the very best quality where I found it necessary.

The basics for the continued journey had been a no brainer for me. More food rations, a map of Europe – surprisingly, my drawing hadn't been that off – a piece of soap, a sturdy Muggle outfit and a modest cloak for when I entered wizarding company – both would replace my used clothing. Quickly, I slipped out of the old garments and into the new ones. Stout leather boots, linen slacks, a tight brassier that would flatten my already unimpressive chest, a new cap, a loose short-sleeved shirt and a jacket to go on top. I had a heavier coat, but I would probably only need that for the night-times. The typical wizarding cloak was black and with a big hood in which I could hide my face. The cloak and the coat were stuffed in my knapsack, almost exhausting the extension charm.

The interesting purchases were those, that I'd made regarding my safety. Having a dagger was fine and dandy, but since the hag incident, I really ached for something bigger. A small part of my training with my father had consisted of physical fighting. I could defend myself quite well, even if I wasn't a master in the offensive. And he'd also trained me for various weapons. Sadly, I was only passable with one kind: the sword. As I could never travel unobtrusively with a sword on my body, I chose a short-sword that was a bit longer as my underarm and roughly as wide. It had no guard to keep it small and no decorations on the handle. But it was made out of silver with beautiful inscribed runes for protection and strength. The runes had attracted me to the sword, as I felt some kind of connection to it. Maybe it was my sentimentality because of the runes on my fingers, but I chose the weapon nonetheless.

Along with the short-sword, I chose a scabbard for my back. One strap each wrapped around my shoulders, not unlike my knapsack, to meet in between my shoulder blades. Another belt was fixed around my waist. Like that, I could sheath the sword between the shirt and the jacket, resting along my spine. Thankfully I was rather agile, so it was no problem grabbing the hilt of the sword from within my shoulder blades.

I also purchased a second dagger, to add to the one I had brought from home. The old one was still sheathed in my new boots, the new one found a home in a sheath on my left underarm. Thus, I felt heavily armed and better prepared for my journey. With two wands and three blades, I felt like I was less vulnerable.

Pointing my wand at my old clothes, I whispered quietly, "_Evanesco._"

That taken care of, I reached for the last item that I had bought. A pair of soft and thin leather gloves. Those would hide the runes on my fingers. I was concerned that someone would see them. Wizarding folk would know that they meant, and tattoos were frowned upon in the Muggle world, as far as I knew. So, I chose to better hide them.

A little tapping at the window made me flinch and I whirled around, my wand pointing at the noise. It was an owl that obviously demanded to be let into the apartment, and it took me a few moments to realize that it was the same owl that I had sent to the British Ministry this morning. I had known that the priority owls were fast but travelling back and forth in a matter of hours was impressive.

I rushed to the window and wretched it open, my hands shaking with nerves. I took me a few attempts to loosen the scroll from the owl's leg and I had to murmur soothingly at her to keep her from nipping my fingers. Finally, I was able to get the parchment free and unrolled it as quickly as possible. It held only a one-liner.

_Your request has been recorded; file number: #FA7323998lp003_

"What?" I murmured confused.

What was this?

I distractedly stoked the fluffy head of the owl and only realized then that the majestic owl was rather ruffled. Her feathers were rumbled, and she seemed rather haggard. Almost as if someone had tried to catch her but failed so because she had put up a fight.

In bewilderment, I stared at the automatic reply from the British Ministry and the messenger owl. I had no idea if the owl had been intercepted but clearly the Ministry wasn't going to help me. In a sudden rush of anger, I lit the parchment on fire and burnt it. The bird squeaked in indignation, but I could calm it down with a few pets. Smoothing down the feathers I searched for any injuries, but there were none. Thankfully, the owl was alright.

Opening the window again, I let the bird fly away, watching it getting smaller in the sky until I couldn't see it anymore. So, the Ministry wouldn't be of any help. That wasn't too much of a surprise, though I had to admit that I was disappointed. Why did they simply file my request without anyone really reading it? I breathed deeply to centre myself again, trying to let go of the frustration. The breathing helped a bit and I calmed down.

With perfect timing, I heard the door of the suite open and close as I'd calmed my nerves again. Turning around, I saw Gustav stepping into the room, a slightly exhausted expression on his face. Instantly, I felt the twinge of familiar guilt. There were only hours left before I could finally lift the curse off him. I was glad about it. The constant siphoning of my magic was becoming a strain, and I couldn't wait to change that.

"You look fierce", he gave me a charming if not tired smile, eyeing my outfit with curious eyes.

"Thank you", I answered uncomfortable, twisting my loose hair into a messy bun. "How did your meetings go?"

"Oh, just like expected! The business can expand but not to the extent that I hoped."

I nodded, clearing my throat as silence began to stretch between us. Gustav was just looking at me, and I wanted to cry with the knowledge that he'd only been nice to me because I forced him to. I had used him, I had taken his free will and just everything about this situation was so very wrong.

"When is your Portkey scheduled?" I asked, when he kept his silence. I had no idea if he acted so calm because of the _Imperius _or because he decided so, but I felt extremely uneasy. This was just not right.

"In an hour. Will you leave with me?"

I frowned at his question, searching his face for a hint why he'd asked it. I found no indication for any emotion, his face the typical blandness of the _Imperius_. I grimaced.

"No," I answered and took a deep breath before I continued, lacing my voice with the command that would enforce the curse. "You will pack your things and leave for the Portkey, taking it home as planned. One the way, you will inform the hotel staff that you need this room for this night as well. Tomorrow at midday, you will feel the curse slipping off you, leaving you with the free will you had before you met me. For the following week, you won't be able to tell anyone about me. Afterwards, you can choose for yourself if you want to go to the authorities, but I would advise against it."

Gustav's eyes clouded and his face slackened even more. "I will pack my things. I will pay for the room and leave Paris. I won't tell anyone about you for the following week."

Seconds later, his usual cheery but still slightly tired expression was back in place.

"I will sort my luggage", he informed me.

I nodded, but I had the feeling that I should say something more. Our departing words should not be my last command to him.

"Gustav", I called him back and he turned around with a polite expression on his face.

I opened my mouth but my voice failed. What was I supposed to say to him? Thank you? But I'd forced his help, he hadn't given it freely. I'm sorry? Yes, I was sorry, but I would use him for the opportunity to travel to France again, so the apology was worth nothing. My conflicted emotions warred in my chest, making it ache with self-loathing. So, I only closed my mouth and shook my head, gesturing him to continue with his packing, dismissing him thus. Nothing I wanted to express could be put in words.

I turned my back to him and stared out of the window, keeping my gaze fixed on the Eiffel tower. Almost half an hour later, I heard Gustav walking through the living room towards the entrance door, leaving the suite for his Portkey. Still standing in front of the windows, I clenched my fists until I felt my fingernails breaking the skin. Listening to him slip into his coat, I knew that this was the last opportunity I had to say something.

But I couldn't. I didn't turn around, neither did I wish him goodbye.

When the door clicked shut, I felt my shoulders drop and sighed deeply. Finally, I was alone again. And if being alone meant that the evidence of my crimes was not in sight anymore, I welcomed the soleness. Maybe it meant that I could suppress my sense of guilt better.


End file.
